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’W’^eezy’s JMouse limit 




ITTLE t\\SS WeEZY'S 

Brother 




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AUTHOR OF “little MISS WEEZY ” ^ 


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SEP 25 1888 ) f 

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INGTO^' 


‘^'^SHI 


BOSTON i888 

LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers 

lo Milk St. next “The Old South Meeting House” 
CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM 
New York 718 and 720 Broadway 



Copyright, i888, 

By lee and SHEPARD 


All rights reserved. 


UnibersttiJ iIJress: 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter Page 

I. Weezy’s Mouse 7 

II. Kirke’s Trouble 19 

III. Molly’s Plan 30 

IV. The Shoemaker 40 

V. The Barber 50 

VI. Pin-Ball Day 65 

VII. Old Skinflint 76 

VIII. Percussion-Caps 87 

IX. Kirke’s May Walk loi 

•X. Blowing the Organ' 112 

XI. Kirke Runs Away 121 

XII. Wishes He Hadn’t 134 

XIII. The Rainbow Supper . 143 




LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


CHAPTER I. 

WEEZY’S MOUSE. 

Well, here they are again ! Do you remem- 
ber them all? I hope you do. Weezy and 
Molly and brother Kirke and the baby, not to 
mention papa and mamma. 

They were in the sitting-room of the Queen 
Anne cottage, and Mr. Rowe had been weigh- 
ing the baby. 

** Dear little brother, you ’re just as big as 
a pin; that's all the bigger you are,” said 
Weezy, as her mamma lifted the blinking 
little fellow from the basket. ‘‘ Wish you 


8 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


wouldn’t be quite so tanned,” she continued, 
stroking his wrinkled red face. “ Do you 
know who this is what’s a-speakin’ to you, 
beauty boy? Why, it’s your next-old sister. 
It’s Louise Rowe.” 

“Did you hear that, papa?” cried Kirke, 
springing up to shake hands with Weezy. 
“ Happy to meet you. Miss Louise Rowe. 
When did you come to town?” 

“ I hope she has come to town to stay,” 
said Mr. Rowe, laughing. “ If you want us 
to call you Louise, little daughter Louise you 
shall be. Now there is a younger baby in 
the house, it is certainly high time to bid 
good-by to little Miss Weezy.” 

“I agree with you,” replied Mrs. Rowe, as 
she fastened the baby’s frock. “It is absurd to 
call our little girl ‘Weezy’ any longer. Why, 
only think, she is five years old ! ” 

“Well, we’ll begin to call you Louise now, 
this very New Year’s Day, won’t we, Loui^?” 


weezy’s mouse. 


9 


said Molly, giving her sister an affectionate hug 
which nearly took her breath away. 

While it is vacation, Louise, and Molly and 
I are at home, Louise,” put in Kirke, laughing. 
“ Say, Louise, did you know, Louise, that papa 
is going to give me a watch next birthday, 
Louise? ” 

That is, if he is a good boy, Louise,” added 
her father, fondling her silky curls. I can’t 
give a watch to a naughty boy, can I, dar- 
ling?” 

“ Course not, papa,” returned Weezy, with 
decision. 

“ No, indeed ! Of course not,” echoed 
mamma. “ Kirke knows that very well, does n’t 
he, pet? ” 

Say ‘ Louise,’ mamma,” corrected Weezy. 

“ Oh, yes, I meant Louise. Henceforth we 
must all remember that this brown-eyed little 
maid answers to the name of Louise,” said 
Mrs. ^owe, smiling. “ Molly, don’t you see 


10 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


that the sun shines in baby’s eyes? Draw the 
shade, please. And Weezy, dear, won’t you 
bring a clean bib for little brother?” 

“ You ’ve said Weezy again, mamma, you ’ve 
said Weezy your own self! ” shouted the “ next- 
old sister,” skipping away in great glee, while 
everybody laughed but the baby. 

A moment later the little girl came flying 
downstairs, shrieking, “ Oh, mamma, mamma, 
there ’s a mouse in the drawer, — a teenty, tonty 
mouse I ” 

“A mouse in the drawer? That is funny! 
But where is the bib? Wouldn’t Mr. Mousie 
let you bring it?” 

“ Oh, mamma, mamma ! He jumped, he did ! 
He scared me all to bits ! ” 

“ Scared at a little mouse ! ” jeered Kirke. 
“ Oh, ho, before I ’d be a girl ! ” 

I dare say the mouse was frightened too,” 
said Mrs. Rowe, still busied with the baby. 
“ Did n’t he scamper away from you, Weezy? ” 


weezy’s mouse. 


II 


“ No, no, mamma, he could n’t scamper. I 
shut him up all tight.” 

“You shut him up, Weezy? Then, papa, I 
think we must ask you to catch him before he 
gnaws little Donald’s laces.” 

“ It is n’t an easy thing to catch a mouse, 
unless one happens to be a cat,” said Mr. Rowe, 
laughing; but he dropped his newspaper and 
seized the tongs. 

Molly grasped the shovel and Kirke the 
poker, and they all rushed upstairs ; while 
Weezy, as usual desirous to help, followed them 
with the mouse-trap. Altogether there was such 
a racket that Lovisa Bran heard it from the 
pantry, and went flying up the back staircase 
to see what was the matter. 

“ Ah, well, my baby, since everybody else has 
gone, you and I won’t be left behind,” thought 
Mrs. Rowe, joining the procession as it reached 
the nursery door. 

“ Pull out the drawer, Kirke,” said Mr. Rowe, 


12 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


standing in front of the bureau. “ Cautiously, 
my son. I want to make a dash for the mouse 
the moment he jumps.” 

‘‘ Wait, Kirke, oh, please wait! ” cried Molly, 
springing into a chair. 

Oh, please wait ! ” echoed Weezy, springing 
into another one. 

** What goosies I ” scoffed Kirke, slowly open- 
ing the drawer. 

Little by little the crack broadened. Now 
Weezy could have put her forefinger into it: 
now she could have put in two fingers. 

“Wider yet, Kirke,” exclaimed Mr. Rowe, 
tightening his grip upon the tongs. “ If the 
mouse is here, it ’s time he appeared.” 

This time the drawer flew out with a jerk that 
made Molly scream. 

“ I see the mousie, papa ! Oh, oh, I see 
him ! ” cried Weezy, hopping up and down. 
“ Look, papa, oh, look I There he is ! There, 
behind baby’s socks I ” and she pointed to a 


WEEZY’S MOUSE. 


13 


tiny gray object writhing and quaking in the 
further corner. 

In went papa’s tongs, and out came — well, 
what do you suppose? Something that danced 
and trembled as if it was alive, but that really 
was as dead as a hairpin. It was nothing in 
the world but a wee worsted tassel! 

Kirke picked it up, shouting, ** Oh, Weezy, 
Weezy! what’ll you take for your eyes? This 
is only a bit of mamma’s fringe. See where it 
dropped out of mamma’s shawl.” 

I *spise noisy boys,” returned Weezy, with 
great dignity. “ I ’m going right downstairs this 
minute with my dear, still little brother.” 

“ I don’t wonder you thought the tassel was a 
mouse, Weezy,” said her mamma, helping her 
from the chair. It is woven on wire. That is 
why it springs so.” 

“ Now you ’ve called me ‘ Weezy ’ ’nother time, 
mamma,” chirped the child, quite pacified by 
this remark. “Everybody keeps not saying 
Louise, — every single body 1 ” 


14 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


“ That is true, dear,” said Mrs. Rowe, with a 
smile. “ I ’m afraid we shall keep on calling 
our little girl ‘Weezy ’ till she is tall enough to 
wear long dresses.” 

After this they all marched downstairs in 
Indian file, — papa with the tongs, mamma with 
the baby, Molly with the shovel, and Kirke with 
the poker. Last of all went Lovisa, carrying 
Weezy and the mouse-trap. 

** It was ^ a great cry and little wool,’ was n’t 
it, mamma? ” cried Kirke, as he set the tassel 
astride the sitting-room fender. 

“ We ought to have an etching of the scene,” 
remarked Mr. Rowe, picking up his newspaper. 

A w/iatf papa? ” queried Weezy, very much 
perplexed. 

‘*An etching, little daughter. Don’t you 
know what an etching is? Well, it is a kind 
of picture. If some one could have made a 
picture of us just now hunting for the mouse 
that was n’t a mouse, would n’t it have been 
funny? ” 


WEEZY’S MOUSE. 


15 


“ Oh, yes, papa, ever and ever so funny ! ” 
cried Weezy, clapping her hands. ** I can make 
the picture my own self. I Ve made pictures 
lots and lots of times.” 

“ To be sure you have,” said Mr. Rowe, 
giving her a pencil, and a leaf from his note- 
book. ** Now run away, little lady. Papa wants 
to finish his paper.” 

Weezy retired under the piano, but at the 
end of ten minutes appeared again at her 
father’s elbow. 

See, papa, I ’ve drawed it lovely. Please 
write topside of it for me?” 

“ With pleasure, my dear. What shall I 
write ? ” 

“ Oh, that thing what you said, ‘ This is an 
itching! ” 

‘‘An itching, is it? It looks more like a 
scratching!' muttered Jimmy Maguire, who had 
come in to beg Kirke to go skating. 

“ It does, Jimmy, true as the world ! What 


1 6 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

a bright fellow you are ! ” shouted Kirke, always 
too ready to laugh at Jimmy’s odd sayings. 

His fondness for this clownish, good-natured 
boy was a regret to the family. Not that Jimmy 
was positively bad, but he was rude and un- 
taught, and being several years older than 
Kirke, was apt to lead him into mischief. If 
Mr. and Mrs. Rowe had not pitied the poor, 
neglected lad so much, it is doubtful whether 
they would have allowed their little son to play 
with him. 

don’t think you’re very p’lite, Jimmy 
Maguire,” said Weezy, her lip puckering. She 
considered her picture rather remarkable, as 
indeed it was. 

“Poh! I didn’t mean anything, Weezy; 
Honest Injun, I did n’t ! ” 

“ Who ’s this little chap in your itching, 
Weezy, that’s carrying a washtub?” asked 
Kirke, with mock seriousness. 

“ Oh, what a silly boy ! Why, that is n’t a 


WEEZY’S MOUSE. 


17 


tub ; that ’s a mouse-trap ! And that ’s some 
of me that ’s got it ; not the whole of me, — 
there was n’t room.” 

“ Yes, yes, darling, we see. You 're quite an 
artist,” said Molly, soothingly. ‘‘When you 
grow up you must have a studio.” 

“ Do you mean one of those little houses on 
wheels, with a stove-funnel chimney?” asked 
Kirke, adding, with a wink at Jimmy, “ I speak 
to drive you, Weezy.” 

“ And I speak to kill all your mice,” said 
Jimmy, drawing on his ragged mittens. 

“ If Weezy paints all the scrapes she runs 
into, won’t it take the brushes, though ! ” ex- 
claimed Kirke, tickling her neck with the 
dancing tassel. 

“ Make him stop funning, mamma,” cried 
Weezy, fleeing behind the sofa. “ I don’t ‘ run 
into scrapes;’ now, do I, mamma?” 

“ Kirke must n’t talk slang. He knows papa 
and I do not approve of it,” said Mrs. Rowe, 


1 8 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

gravely. “ This, I suppose, is what he meant 
to say, — that you are always getting into 
trouble.” 

Nevertheless, as it happened, the next one of 
the children to get into trouble was not Weezy, 
but Kirke himself. 


CHAPTER II. 


kirke’s trouble. 

Jimmy Maguire was at the bottom of it, — 
big, idle Jimmy, who liked mischief better than 
arithmetic any day, and could set Kirke to 
laughing by the wink of an eyelid. 

It was some weeks after the holidays, and the 
boys had gone back to school. They were now 
in the intermediate grade, and the New Year 
had brought them a new teacher with a tall hat 
and eye-glasses, and a certain lordly air not at 
all to their taste. 

Would n’t I like to dump the little squinting 
creetur into a mud-puddle? ” whispered Jimmy 
on this particular morning, as he slouched by 
Kirke’s desk. Calls himself Mr. Prince, does 


20 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


he? I call him Prince Bantam. He isn’t big 
enough to go alone ! ” 

Kirke giggled outright. He thought Jimmy 
very witty indeed, and, to tell the truth, cher- 
ished a secret admiration for a comrade who 
dared to say and do things so shocking. 

“That black-haired little fellow is a rogue,” 
reflected Mr. Prince, glaring at Kirke. “ I must 
keep an eye on him.” 

But he never thought to keep an eye on red- 
haired Jimmy. The fact was, he did not under- 
stand managing boys, and the scholars were 
fast getting beyond his control. To-day they 
were unusually trying. The morning exercises 
were hardly over before they began to throw 
paper balls, pass notes, and engage in all man- 
ner of mischief. By threatening to chastise the 
next boy caught in wrong-doing, Mr. Prince se- 
cured partial order for a time. But by and by 
he was called from the room, and all was again 
confusion. Johnny Boardman tiptoed down the 


KIRKE’S TROUBLE. 


21 


aisle, mimicking Mr. Prince’s gait; Phil Duncan 
drew his portrait upon the blackboard; and 
graceless Jimmy Maguire bore his tall hat aloft 
upon the window-pole to perch it upon Cicero’s 
bust above the desk. 

Suddenly the door-knob turned. Such a 
scurrying as there was then! Jimmy dropped 
the pole in the aisle beside Kirke’s seat, Phil 
erased his sketch, and all sprang to their desks. 
By the time Mr. Prince entered, everybody was 
studying, — everybody but unfortunate Kirke 
Rowe, who at sight of Cicero’s novel head-gear 
went off in another spasm of giggling. 

“ I wonder what prank that little wretch has 
been cutting up now?” mused the outraged 
teacher, striding toward him and hitting his toe 
against the prostrate window-pole. 

“ How came this thing out of place, young 
man? Who’s been meddling with it?” he 
cried, clutching Kirke’s desk to save himself 
from falling. I say, what have you been 


22 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


doing with it?” he continued angrily, tipping 
back Kirke’s head as if it had been the lid of 
a teapot. 

“Nothing, sir; I haven’t touched it,” gasped 
Kirke, as distinctly as he could with his chin 
upside down. 

“You haven’t touched it, hey? You would 
have me believe that it walked here, would 
you?” growled Mr. Prince, wheeling about at 
the sound of humming in the front seats. 

“ Ah, ha ! I see your game now,” he con- 
tinued, as he suddenly spied his cherished hat 
resting upon Cicero’s marble brow like an extin- 
guisher upon a candle. “ I ’ll teach you to let 
my things alone ! ” 

And too enraged to question whether Kirke 
were the true culprit or not, he dragged him 
from his chair and spun him into the floor. 

“ Carry that hat back to its peg, instantly. 
Do you hear? ” thundered he, snatching a ferule 
from his table. 


kirke’s trouble. 


23 


Did Kirke hear, indeed ! Why, his ears were 
fairly quivering. If he had not heard he must 
have been deafer than Kisty Nye’s grandpa. 

But it was n’t I that put your hat there, 
Mr. Prince, honest, it was n’t. I never touched 
the hat ! ” he cried, the moment he could stop 
whirling. 

“ A likely story ! If you did n’t touch it, 
pray who did ? ” 

Kirke did not answer; and though trembling 
from head to foot, he carefully avoided looking 
at Jimmy, who on his part seemed deeply in- 
terested in his geography lesson. 

“If you didn’t touch it, who did? I ask. 
Need n’t try to get round me by saying that 
it was the pole that touched it.” 

“ I did n’t handle the pole, sir. It was an- 
other boy.” 

“ Indeed ! What boy? ” 

“ I can’t tell, sir.” 

“ Do you know? ” 


24 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


“Yes, sir,” faltered Kirke, fumbling in his 
pocket for a wad of dirty linen, which proved 
to be a pocket-handkerchief. 

“He ’s going to tattle : it ’s all day with 
me,” mused Jimmy, smearing the mouth of the 
Amazon with his grimy forefinger. 

“ Oh, you pretend that you know the rogue, 
but that you won’t inform against him ! ” sneered 
Mr. Prince, still grasping Kirke by the collar. 
“ If you could fasten the blame upon somebody 
beside yourself, I ’ll warrant you ’d be eager 
enough to do it.” 

“I don’t tell on boys, sir; I wouldn’t be so 
mean ! ” retorted Kirke, bridling. 

“ None of your impudence, young man ! I 
won’t hear it ! ” cried the hot-tempered teacher, 
swinging his ferule. “ Hold out your hand.” 

“ The little chap ’ll blab now, sure,” thought 
Jimmy, bending yet lower over his geography; 
“ he ’ll blab about me, and I shall be in for a 
trouncing.” 


KIRKE’S TROUBLE. 


25 


But Kirke did not “ blab ” about Jimmy. He 
did not so much as glance at him, as with lips 
twitching and eyelids trembling he slowly ex- 
tended his shrinking palm. Even from the sixth 
row, where Jimmy sat, he could see it quiver; 
and he muttered to himself, “ Bah ! how the 
little kid’s hand shakes ! Mine would n’t shake 
that way. I could hold mine out stiff as a 
poker.” 

Jimmy was trying not to think of a certain 
day last year at Miss Bailey’s school, when 
Kirke had saved him from punishment by con- 
fessing that he himself was the guilty party. 
“ He need n’t have done it, I wish now he 
had n’t; I did n’t ask him to give himself 
away,” reflected he crossly, opening and shut- 
ting his own fist, oh, so much tougher than 
Kirke’s ! 

The upraised ferule seemed to beckon him. 
Could he sit there like a sneak and see the un- 
merited blows fall on that plucky little fellow? 


26 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

No ; rough and untrained though he was, Jimmy 
could not quite do this. Not waiting to choose 
his words, he bolted into the middle of the floor, 
crying, — 

“ Hold on, master ! Let the little chap alone. 
’T was me that cut up that shine ! ” 

So it was Jimmy himself who took the beat- 
ing, while the boys regarded him with dawning 
respect. That manly little Kirke Rowe should 
have scorned to tell tales was to have been ex- 
pected ; but they had never looked for heroism, 
or any other virtue, in freckled Jimmy Maguire. 
It was rather their fashion to snub him on 
account of his miserable father, now in jail for 
disorderly conduct. 

“ Jimmy must have a spark of nobleness,” 
said Mr. Rowe at dinner, after hearing Kirke’s 
story. “ What a pity he can’t have proper 
training, and be kept from roaming the streets ! ” 
“ I don’t blame him for roaming the streets,” 
struck in Kirke, valiantly ; “ and you would n’t 


KIRKE’S TROUBLE. 


27 


blame him, papa, if you should see the horrid 
house he lives in, and his stepmother, and — ” 

“What’s a stepmother, mamma? Please 
mayn’t I have a stepmother?” pleaded little 
Weezy; and then she wondered why every- 
body laughed. 

“We ought to have a public reading-room 
in this quarter of the city for the benefit of just 
such boys as Jimmy Maguire and Tommy In- 
galls,” said Mr. Rowe, sending away his plate. 
“ If they had some attractive, homelike place 
where they could meet together to read and 
play quiet games, it would tend to break their 
roving habits.” 

“ I ’ve often thought the same thing,” remarked 
Mrs. Rowe with feeling, as she served the pud- 
ding. “ How I wish we could raise funds to 
furnish such a room ! ” 

“ Let ’s do it, mamma ! ” cried Molly, ear- 
nestly. “Let’s have a fair, — a regular jam- 
boree ! We girls ’ll help. We ’ll make stacks 


28 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

of pretty things this spring, and we’ll fit up 
booths next summer and sell them.” 

“ Who ’ll want to buy stacks and booths, 
Molly?” 

“ Now, mamma, don’t laugh ! You know I 
mean we ’ll sell the fancy articles ; and we ’ll 
make piles of money, and we ’ll take it to buy 
chairs and games and tables for the Boys’ 
Reading-Room.” 

And I rather think you ’ll find we boys can 
make a few jiggers ourselves,” said Kirke in a 
boastful tone. 

‘‘ My son ! ” 

There, mamma, I forgot! honest, I didn’t 
mean to talk slang. We boys can make paper- 
folders and brackets and — ” 

‘‘ Itchings,” added Weezy, pushing back her 
high-chair in great glee. “ I ’m going to make 
a big bushelful of itchings, and Kisty Nye ’ll 
make a big bushelful too.” 

“ Well, children, if you can count on having 


KIRKE’S TROUBLE. 


29 


Weezy and her little friend to help you, you ’ll 
have a strong force,” remarked Mr. Rowe sport- 
ively, as they rose from the table. “ I don’t see 
that there’ll be anything left for mamma and 
me to do.” 

“ Oh, yes, there will, papa ! You must advise 
us, you know, and see to printing the bills, and 
all that,” cried Molly, clinging to his arm. ** Oh, 
don’t you think we can get up a fair? ” 

” If auntie will assist, I ’ve no doubt that you 
can.” 

“ We should have to work pretty hard, but it 
would be missionary work,” said Mrs. Rowe, 
thoughtfully. The plan is worth considering. 
Let ’s talk it over with Aunt Clara.” 


CHAPTER III. 


molly’s plan. 

The Rowe children enjoyed talking things 
over ” with their Aunt Clara Wynian, for she 
was always interested in all their little plans. 
So as a matter of course the moment school 
closed that afternoon Molly rushed around to 
Dr. Wyman’s to speak about the fair. Weezy 
was there before her, taking her first lesson in 
knitting. 

** See, Molly,” cried she, from the depths of 
the big rocking-chair ; I ’ve knitted ten stitches 
all my own self. When I can knit ’thout drop- 
pin’, auntie ’s going to give me a piece of frostin’ 
pie. 

** Frostin’ pie ” was Weezy’s name for iced 
jelly-cake, — a dainty of which she was exceed- 
ingly fond. 


molly’s PLAN. 


31 


Is she? How nice that ’ll be ! If you learn 
to knit well, maybe auntie ’ll let you make some 
reins for our fair, Ducky Dilver,” said Molly, 
brightly. ** Now, auntie dear, are you very 
busy? I want to talk to you about something 
particular.” 

Mrs. Wyman was in haste to finish off a mit- 
ten before dark, but not in too great haste to 
listen to Molly’s story. At its close she said 
she liked the idea of founding a boys’ reading- 
room, and she thought if the children were will- 
ing to work they might raise a snug little sum 
of money. 

Papa has promised that he ’ll buy every- 
thing I make for the fair, if mamma says the 
work is well done. That ’ll be some help,” said 
Molly, with an important air. 

“ Certainly it will,” returned Mrs. Wyman, 
repressing a smile. Have you thought of 
anything to make?” 

‘‘ Oh, yes ; I shall crochet toboggan caps, — 


32 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


lovely blue and white ones, — and then there 
are duster-bags, you know, and crazy sofa- 
pillows; mamma could help me about those. 
And oh, auntie ! I would so like to do a car- 
riage afghan. Could I, suppose, — shaded reds 
and browns, like Mrs. Nye’s?’^ 

Stop, stop, Molly dear; you fairly take 
away my breath,” cried Mrs. Wyman, laughing. 
“ Your materials would cost ten dollars at the 
least, and who is to furnish the money?” 

Molly looked blank. She had not thought 
of that; perhaps her papa would furnish it. 

“Why don’t you little girls form a society, 
and meet Saturday afternoons to sew for your 
fair?” 

“ Oh, auntie, that would be lovely, if you ’d 
only tell us how to begin.” 

“ Oh, the beginning will be easy enough. 
After you have called a meeting you must 
choose a president. You ’d better choose some- 
body older than yourselves, — some capable 


molly’s plan. 


33 


young lady who can advise you and oversee 
your work. She might be treasurer, too.” 

“We have n’t any money, auntie. What ’ll 
be the use of having a treasurer? ” said Molly 
dismally, watching her aunt’s swift needles. 

“ I ’ll give you my two cents,” put in Weezy^ 
eager to do her part. 

“ Oh, you must raise a fund for your society, 
Molly. You must each pay a fee when you join 
it. If every member pays twenty- five cents, 
that will make a snug little sum in the treasury. 
Then I dare say there are odds and ends of 
satins and velvets at home that your mothers 
would be glad to give to you. Those will help 
wonderfully in making fancy articles.” 

“ But I hate to work on little, fussy, cheap 
things, auntie. I suppose I ’m horrid, but I ’d 
oceans rather do something big and elegant, 
that ’ll make a show.” 

“ Of course you would, dear; anybody would. 
I don’t blame you a bit for feeling that way. 


3 


34 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

But at fairs it is the little, fussy, cheap things 
that sell best and bring the most profit ; that 's 
the point. And when we earn money for char- 
ity, it is our duty to earn all we honestly can.” 

“ How much you know about everything, 
auntie ! I wish you ’d be president of the so- 
ciety. Won’t you, please?” 

“I? Oh no, Molly ! You don’t want a middle- 
aged president. You ’d far better select some 
nice young lady that you all like.” 

“ But there is n’t any young lady in the world 
half so nice as you, auntie; you know there 
is n’t,” said Molly, fondly stroking her aunt’s 
soft brown hair. “ Besides, you ’re not old at 
all ; you ’re only making believe.” 

“ Making believe what, auntie? ” asked Kirke, 
strolling in with a shamefaced air. He was now 
earning fifty cents a month running of errands 
for Dr. Wyman, and he usually came to the 
house directly after school ; but to-night he was 
half an hour behind time. 


MOLLY’S PLAN. 


35 


I ’m not making believe anything, my boy ; 
it is your silly sister here who is trying to make 
believe that I am about her age,” laughed Mrs. 
Wyman, not displeased. “ But why are you 
so late, Kirke? We have been looking for you 
ever since Molly came.” 

” Got kept, auntie.” 

“ Oh, I ’m sorry to hear that. What were 
you kept for?” 

“ Giggling.” 

Again ! ” 

“ Oh, Kirke, you ’re a gigglety, pigglety 
boy ! ” exclaimed Weezy reproachfully, drop- 
ping a needleful of stitches. 

** I could n’t help giggling, auntie. Honor 
bright, I could n’t,” cried Kirke, chuckling afresh 
at the recollection. “ If you ’d heard Jimmy 
Maguire you’d have laughed yourself; I do 
believe you would ! ” 

“ I should n’t think you ’d so much as smile at 
such an acting boy, Kirke ; I would n’t ! ” said 
Molly, virtuously. 


36 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

You 'd have smiled this time, Miss Mollybus ; 
you ’d have smiled out aloud,” tittered Kirke. 
“ It was in the spelling class.' We boys were all 
standing up in a row, and it was Jimmy’s turn to 
spell. Oh, oh, it was so funny ! ” 

“ I don’t think that was funny at all ! ” said 
Weezy severely, carrying her knitting- work to 
her aunt for repairs. 

“ Wait, wait ! I ’ve just got to the funny part,” 
returned Kirke, taking breath. ** Mr. Prince 
put out the word ‘ vapor’ to Jimmy, and asked 
him to give the definition. It ’s * steam, or fog,’ 
you know. Well, Jimmy had n’t studied his 
lesson, and he peeped behind him and read it 
right off the book ; ‘ v-a, va, p-o-r, por, vapor ; 
stem of a frog ! ’ Oh, auntie, how could a fellow 
help snickering? ” 

Mrs. Wyman laughed heartily, avowing that 
she could not imagine what Jimmy meant by the 
‘ stem of a frog,’ unless it might be a polliwog. 

“Jimmy said that on purpose to make fun, 
I ’m sure he did,” said Molly. 


MOLLY’S PLAN. 


37 


“ Oh, no, he would n’t have dared. He ’s too 
afraid of Mr. Prince. No, he was ’most asleep ; 
that was the thing of it. You see, he and 
Tommy Ingalls had been up half the night tag- 
ging ’round after a street show.” 

“ Poor Jimmy ! I suspect he is not very com- 
fortable at home,” said Mrs. Wyman, giving 
Weezy back her knitting. 

No, auntie, I should say he was n’t. Why, 
his stepmother is as cross as two sticks, and 
sitch messes as she cooks for Jimmy! You 
could n’t coax Bruno to eat ’em.” 

“ Oh, dear I I wish I could see a stepmother,” 
sighed Weezy. “ I haven’t sawn a stepmother, 
not ever.” 

“Why do you want to see a stepmother, 
dear? ” asked her aunt, curiously. 

“ Oh, I want to see her step.” 

Mrs. Wyman smiled. 

“ Stepmothers step just exactly like other 
mothers, Coseta,” said she, drawing on the fin- 


38 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

ished mitten ; “ your dear Grandma Rowe is 
your father’s stepmother, and mine. Have n’t 
you seen her step hundreds of times ? ” 

“ But grandma is n’t cross, auntie ! ” 

“ Sweet Grandma Rowe cross ! Of course 
she is n’t. Did you suppose stepmothers were 
always cross? Why, that is a great mistake, 
my dearie. Some of the loveliest women I 
know are stepmothers.” 

“ I don’t believe Jimmy’s mother is one of 
’em, though,” said Kirke, shrugging his shoul- 
ders. 

“ I do think we must try to make Jimmy’s 
life a little pleasanter,” returned Mrs. Wyman, 
thoughtfully. Then rolling the mittens together 
into a ball, she tossed it playfully to Molly, 
saying, “ You certainly must carry out this idea 
of starting a reading-room where these forlorn 
boys may enjoy coming; and we grown people 
must help. Here ’s my first contribution to the 
fair.” 


MOLLY’S PLAN. 


39 


“ Oh, thank you, auntie ! And you will be 
president of the society?” 

“ I ’ll think about it. Ask the girls to meet 
here in the dining-room next Saturday after- 
noon, and we ’ll see what is best to be done. 
I ’ll be glad to assist all I can.” 

“ And I too,” said Weezy, tangling her yarn. 

“You? What can you do, little pigeon? 
asked Kirke, rather scornfully. 

“ Oh, I can weave beauty May-baskets. Kisty 
Nye can, too. Please put the knitting away 
now, auntie ; my fingers are all out of breath.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE SHOEMAKER. 

There had been a January thaw, and in 
going home from her aunt Clara’s that evening 
Weezy wet her feet. The fact would be hardly 
worth mentioning here, only that in drying the 
child’s boots at the kitchen fire one of them 
was burnt, and had to be taken to the shoe- 
maker’s. Kirke carried it the next morning, 
and the sidewalks having become clear again, 
Weezy was allowed to go with him. This was 
where the mischief began. 

They found Mr. Sally, the shoemaker, at work 
in his little narrow shop at the end of a little 
narrow [^lane. He was a tiny old man with a 
tiny round head, and a great round hump be- 
tween his shoulders; and as he bent over his 


THE SHOEMAKER. 


41 


last, drawing the waxed-ends in and out of the 
sole of a slipper, he looked like an industrious 
spider weaving its web. 

“ Shut the door, boy,” said he to Kirke, by 
way of greeting. “ It takes a warm room for 
my business.” 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Sally,” returned Kirke, 
edging around the little barrel stove, closely 
followed by Weezy. “ My mother wanted me 
to ask if you could mend this boot.” 

“Mend that? It’s likely I can!” said Mr. 
Sally, jerking the waxed-ends briskly through 
the next awl-hole. “ It ’s a precious small con- 
cern though, ain’t it?” 

“ It ’s my little sister’s, and it ’s almost new.” 

“ Oh, is that little miss your sister? I did n’t 
see her afore,” said the shoemaker, pushing his 
spectacles up over his bald crown, where they 
glistened like skylight windows in a roof. 
“ Well, well, I guess she ’s worth raising. Good- 
morning, my little woman.” 


42 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


“ Good-morning, Mr. Sarah!' replied Weezy, 
politely. She considered it very rude in Kirke 
to call the man Mr. Sally, for she thought 
“ Sally ” must be a nickname. 

At this greeting the jolly cobbler chuckled 
till his spectacles leaped back upon his nose; 
but he only said, — 

Hop across here, won’t you, my little cosset ; 
I want to heft you. I should say you ’re about 
my granddarter’s bigness. We set great store 
by little Janey.” 

“ Can Janey knit ten stitches right off ’thout 
droppin’ ? ” asked Weezy, skipping over the 
scraps of kid scattering the floor, and allowing 
Mr. Sally to lift her. 

“ I ain’t sure as to that. But one thing I do 
know, she can drive pegs like a major.” 

“ What does she drive ’em with? ” 

Oh, she drives ’em with this little hammer. 
I ’ll lend it to you if you want it. Here ’s my 
lapstone to pound on.” 


THE SHOEMAKER. 


43 


“ Oh, thank you, Mr. Sarah. Thank you 
ever so much.” ^ 

“You’re welcome, little blossom. Now, let 
me show you the way my little Janey does. 
See these sharp bits of wood here on my bench? 
Well, these are my shoe-pegs. Janey takes one 
between her thumb and finger, and she grabs 
her hammer in the other hand, so^ and she sends 
the peg though a snip of leather, whack ! just 
like this ! ” 

“ I can do it, too. Look, Mr. Sarah ; can’t I 
do it?” 

“ Why, you can. Miss Curly-Head ; ’pon my 
word, I believe you can ! ” returned the good- 
natured cobbler, with a sly wink at Kirke. “ If 
you keep on, I should n’t wonder if you ’d beat 
my little Janey.” 

Then, taking up his last again, he jerked the 
waxed-ends in and out still faster than before, 
while Kirke looked on, thinking to himself that 
when he was a man he would certainly be a 


44 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

cobbler. Mr. Sally must have taken a great 
fancy to pretty brown-eyed Weezy, or he never 
would have let her waste so many shoe-pegs. 
The more she pounded and prattled the better 
he was pleased. It was only when she had 
been for some moments quiet that he glanced 
up uneasily. She was playing with the articles 
on his bench. 

‘‘Tut, tut, little girl! Mustn’t meddle with 
my things. Put down the knife, dearie. Quick, 
quick ! I have n’t got any rags ! ” 

“ I don’t want any rags,” said Weezy, open- 
ing her eyes. “What for you s’pose I want 
any rags?” 

“ Oh, to do up your fingers. First thing you 
know, that knife ’ll cut ’em. A pretty fix we ’ll 
be in then, with no rags handy.” 

Kirke laughed softly. He was very much 
interested just at that moment in seeing how 
Mr. Sally would sew around the toe of the 
slipper. 


THE SHOEMAKER. 


45 


You could stick my fingers with pi-las-ter^ 
Mr. Sarah; wouldn’t that be funny?” said 
Weezy, enjoying the joke. Here ’s a great 
big junk of pi-las-ter — bigger ’n my grandma’s. 
My grandma put her pi-las-ter on a piece of 
cloth. She put it on with a knife — my grandma 
did — all sizzling hot ! ” 

Take care, young woman ! take care ! That 
is n’t plaster ; that ’s my shoemaker’s wax ! ” 
cried Mr. Sally, springing up in alarm. “ Drop 
it ! it ’s dauby stuff ; it ’ll spoil your pretty 
cloak! ” 

But he spoke too late. As Lovisa Bran had 
once said, years ago, Weezy was “a dretful 
capable child,” and now in the twinkling of an 
eye she had done what little Janey had never 
done in all her little life ; she had smeared both 
hands with wax, and caught a mass of it in her 
long, flying hair. 

“ I can’t drop it. I can’t make it let go of 
me,” she wailed, whirling about the room with 


46 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

the sticky ball clinging fast to her fingers, and 
to whatever they touched. “ Oh, it hurts, 
Kirke ! It ’s pulling my curls. Oh, please take 
it away ! ” 

Kirke ran to her aid, but in his zeal only made 
matters worse. 

“ Oh, don’t ! don’t take it away ! You pull 
my hair horrid ! ” sobbed Weezy, beating him 
back with her hands, and leaving patches of wax 
upon his jacket. 

“ Wish ’t you had n’t brought me here, Kirke 
Rowe. Wish ’t I was a little smooth fish in the 
water.” 

“ The dear heart ! I ’d have given a silver 
dollar sooner ’n had this happen in my shop,” 
cried Mr. Sally, stroking his leather apron, as 
was his habit when troubled. 

Then he seized his pointed shoe-knife and 
began to scrape the wax from Weezy, mean- 
while talking very fast about little Janey. 
“ There, poor little creetur ! ” said he, presently, 


THE SHOEMAKER. 


47 


wiping the knife upon a strip of sheepskin, 
‘‘ I Ve done all I can for you. Now you ’d 
better run home with your brother and ask 
your ma to grease your hands. After the 
grease has softened the wax I guess soap- 
suds '11 clean *em.” 

“ Oh, dear, I don’t want dirty greese on ! ” 
sobbed she, stubbing across the littered floor 
behind Kirke. “ I ’spise dirty grease ! ’* 

“ Oh, the grease won’t stay on, little woman ; 
your ma ’ll wash that off in no time,” returned 
Mr. Sally, holding the door open for her. “ But 
what your ma will do with your hair, I ’m sure 
I don’t know.” 

Mrs. Rowe herself did not know. When 
Weezy was led into the sitting-room in this sad 
plight, she could only cry out in dismay, — 

“ Oh, Kirke, Kirke, why did n’t you take 
better care of your little sister? How shall I 
ever get her curls in order?” 

“ Oh, mamma, I ’m so sorry ! ” said Kirke, 


48 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

half laughing, half crying. “ I thought I was 
watching her every minute; but she’s quicker 
’n a gun.” 

Kirke did n’t take care of me at all, at all. 
He kept a talking, talking to the Sarah man ! ” 
moaned Weezy, spreading her sticky hands like 
the claws of a robin. “ He did n’t say one time, 
‘Weezy Rowe, don’t you touch that pi-las-ter; ’ 
so course I touched it ! ” 

“ Oh, Weezy, Weezy, will you never learn 
not to meddle?” chided her mamma, hastily 
rubbing the front of Kirke’s jacket. “ I ’m 
sorry my children will be so heedless.” 

It was almost nine o’clock when Kirke set out 
for school. It was fully ten before, by patient 
scrubbing, Mrs. Rowe succeeded in removing 
the wax from Weezy ’s face and hands. At high 
noon she was still combing it from the child’s 
hair. 

“ It is no use to torture Weezy any more,” 
said she with a sigh, as Molly and Kirke came 


THE SHOEMAKER. 


49 


in, leading their father. “ Her curls are so 
hopelessly tangled that they must be cut off.’* 

“ What a pity ! I would sooner have parted 
with my mustache ! ” exclaimed Mr. Rowe, much 
disturbed. 

“ Oh, dear, I almost rather not have my little 
new watch ! ’* cried Kirke, looking extremely 
wretched; while Molly actually shed tears. 

Of them all, Weezy alone was pleased. She 
thought it would be a very fine thing to get rid 
of the troublesome ringlets, and frisking away 
from the vexatious comb, she cried in great 
glee, — 

“ Oh, is n’t it sup-plendid f I ’m going to be 
a little bald-headed girl, just like Mr. Sarah ! ’* 


4 


CHAPTER V. 


THE BARBER. 

“ Can’t you find time to take Weezy to the 
barber’s this afternoon, Edward?” asked Mrs. 
Rowe, following her husband into the sitting- 
room when dinner was over. 

Kirke and Molly had gone back to school, 
and Weezy was in the dining-room coasting 
down the ironing-board, which formed a kind 
of toboggan slide between the lounge and the 
floor. Mrs. Rowe had invented this slide as a 
means of keeping Weezy and her little friend 
Kisty Nye at play within doors. They liked it 
very well, though not as well as they liked the 
hill behind Mr. Nye’s house, where they coasted 
sunny mornings in big iron baking-pans. 


THE BARBER. 


51 


Take Weezy to the barber’s ? ” repeated 
Mr. Rowe, already struggling into his overcoat. 
“ I don’t see how I possibly can do it. I ’m 
sorry to say Colonel Flint is waiting for me this 
very moment on urgent business.” 

“Why not let her go with Kisty?” he con- 
tinued, as little Kisty Nye trudged in, as round 
and rosy as a little Dutch girl. “You both 
know Mr. Shaw’s shop, don’t you, children? 
It ’s only a few blocks down the street.” 

“ Yes, oh, yes, papa, we know that,” cried 
Weezy, dancing into the sitting-room with 
sparkling eyes. “ It has a great big horn to it, 
all twisty black and white.” 

“Yes, that is the one. We call the twisty 
black and white horn a barber’s pole,” said her 
papa, smiling. “Well, if Kisty’s mamma is 
willing, Weezy, you may go with Kisty to Mr. 
Shaw’s shop, and ask Mr. Shaw to cut your 
hair. And here ’s the money to pay him,” he 
added, tossing his little girl a twenty-five-cent 
piece as he went out. 


52 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

If baby were not so fretful to-day I would 
take Weezy myself,” thought Mrs. Rowe, not 
altogether pleased with her husband s plan. 

Oh, mamma, please give me and Kisty a 
dime, — just one little dime, mamma, for us 
to buy tissue-paper?” cried Weezy, when she 
was about ready to go. 

“ Tissue-paper? What do you want of tissue- 
paper, Weezy? ” 

“Oh, we want to weave May-baskets — big, 
exquit May-baskets — for Molly’s fair.” 

“ No, no, little wax-girl, Molly shall buy you 
paper some other time. I can’t give you any 
more money this week,” said Mrs. Rowe, tying 
a kiss under Weezy’s bonnet-strings. “ Now, 
don’t forget to ask Mr. Shaw to send me the 
best curls, darling ; and remember to come 
directly home.” 

“ I will, mamma, I positive will,” said Weezy, 
dancing off hand in hand with Kisty. “ Only 
think, mamma, pretty soon you ’ll see a little 


THE BARBER. 


53 


girl walking in without any hair on ; and that ’ll 
be me ! Me and Kisty will be ’most not any 
different ! ” 

“ And I shall have lost my little long-haired 
daughter,” said Mrs. Rowe, rather sadly. “ Now 
run and ask Mrs. Nye if Kisty can go with 
you.” 

Mrs. Nye was not at home, but in the parlor 
the children found Kisty’s grown-up sister 
Laura, chatting with Weezy’s grown-up cousin, 
Mr. Henry Bishop. Weezy had not seen her 
cousin for a long time, — not since she and Kisty 
were at Grandpa Rowe’s early in the winter, — 
and she was delighted to meet him. 

“ But why did n’t you come to my house 
’stead of to Kisty’s house, Mr. Cousin Bishop? ” 
cried she, rather hurt ; “ ’cause I ’m your ’lation, 
and Kisty is n’t, not any.” 

At this Mr. Bishop took Weezy upon his 
knee, calling her a dear little quiz, and looking 
with a smile at Miss Laura. And pretty Miss 


54 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Laura bent her eyes upon her sewing, and 
blushed as crimson as the fuchsia in the window 
beside her. Weezy thought it all very funny, 
but in the midst of her wondering Miss Laura 
said, — 

“ Kisty, dear, you ’d better have your hair 
cut too. Mother told me yesterday you ’d have 
to go to Mr. Shaw’s this week.” 

Then she gave Kisty some money, and bade 
the children run along while the sun was warm. 
They sallied forth in gay spirits, and probably 
would have reached Mr. Shaw’s without the 
least trouble, had they not on the way met 
Jimmy Maguire, as usual too late for school. 

Hello, young sandpeeps ! Where are you 
toddling? ” cried he, sliding along the icy gutter 
in his worn shoes. 

Going to the barber’s,” responded Weezy 
with dignity, as if going to the barber’s were 
their daily habit. 

“This is my quarter of a dollar to pay Mr. 



Jiininy Maguire. — Page 54. 




THE BARBER. 55 

Shaw, and that ’s Weezy’s quarter of a dollar,” 
added Kisty. 

“ Whew ! twenty-five cents is a stunning price ! 
Don’t you let that man fleece you ! I can 
find you a neat place where they ’ll give you a 
cut for twenty cents,” coaxed Jimmy, tripping 
against a lamp-post and tearing his jacket, that 
had been torn before. 

“ Papa said for us to go to Mr. Shaw’s,” re- 
turned Weezy, walking backwards a little ahead 
of Jimmy. 

“ That ’s because your father did n’t know 
about Stubbs, I guess,” said Jimmy, quite un- 
disturbed by the rent in his sleeve. “ Stubbs is 
a new man, — just put his sign .out. See it way 
down the street, — that striped pole with the 
gilt acorn on top? ” 

The children gazed with all their eyes in the 
direction in which Jimmy pointed. Yes, there 
stood the new pole, as much prettier than the 
one in front of Mr. Shaw’s as you can think ! 


56 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Oh, get your hair cropped at Stubbs’s ; I 
would,” urged Jimmy, mindful of the half-pint 
of peanuts Mr. Stubbs had promised him for 
every new customer he should bring. Save 
you five cents apiece ! ” 

“ Then Kisty ’d have five cents, and I ’d have 
five other cents,” mused Weezy, looking very 
wise. “ What ’ll five cents and five other cents 
be, Jimmy? ” 

“ That ’ll be a dime.” 

‘‘A whole dime, Kisty. We could buy the 
tissue-paper ’thout teasing,” whispered Weezy, 
with her face under the brim of Kisty’s bonnet. 

“ Wish your papa had n’t said for us to go to 
Mr. Shaw’s,” puffed chubby little Kisty, trying 
to keep up with Weezy still dancing along back- 
wards. “ I think it ’s too horrid bad.” 

But she would never have disobeyed Mr. 
Rowe ; and she was a good deal startled when 
Weezy said, — 

“ Maybe papa forgot about the new barber 


THE BARBER. 


57 


man. Let ’s go to him, and surprise my papa ! 
I ’ll dare if you ’ll dare ! ” 

“ You ’ll better hurry on with me, then, or 
you ’ll lose your chance,” said Jimmy, artfully. 
“ Stubbs has a sight of barbering to do.” 

“Let’s go, Kisty,” urged Weezy, clasping 
her about the waist. “ The man can barberry 
us real quick, you see, ’cause our heads are 
little.” 

“ I don’t want him to barberry me quick ; 
he ’ll hurt,” said timid Kisty. 

“ Hurt? What you talking about? Stubbs 
would n’t hurt a skeeter^' said Jimmy, whisking 
the children past Mr. Shaw’s and in at the door 
of the new hair-dresser. 

When the little girls came out a half-hour 
later, all shaven and shorn, they carried each 
a shining nickel ; and off they frisked to a 
stationer’s in wild haste, as if they thought the 
store might trundle away on wheels before they 
could reach it. They had often been in this 


58 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Store, for Kisty’s brother Ned was one of the 
clerks, and very friendly with them. He spied 
them at the entrance, and at once came from 
behind the counter to speak to them. 

“ How do you do, young ladies? Why, 
where are your curls, little Miss Weezy?” 

“ Here they are, tied up in a box,” said 
Weezy, waving a small package. “ Please, we 
want to buy some paper.” 

“ Certainly. Shall be delighted to show 
you anything in our line of goods,” said Ned, 
placing two stools for the children, with a polite 
flourish. “What kind of paper do you wish? ” 

“ Tissue-paper ; what you make fish-all flow- 
ers out of,” explained Weezy, highly flattered 
at this marked attention. “We want to make 
roses and things.” 

“ To be sure,” rejoined Ned, turning the 
leaves of a large book filled with sheets of 
various colors. How do you like this cameo 
pink?” 


THE BARBER. 


59 


“Is that camel pink? I think it’s pretty 
homely,” said Weezy frankly, sitting up very 
straight because she saw two clerks looking at 
her from behind the next counter. 

“ Ah ! Then perhaps you ’d prefer a brighter 
tint. This vermilion red would make beautiful 
poppies, don’t you think so? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; let ’s get the familiar redy Kisty,” 
said Weezy. “ I ’ve choosed. Now it ’s your 
turn.” 

Kisty’s choice was a flaming orange ; Weezy’s 
next was a brilliant green; and so the little 
girls went on selecting color after color till their 
money was all spent. Up to this point they 
had had a lovely time ; but as they trudged out 
of the store with their roll of paper their sleepy 
little consciences began to waken. 

“ S’pose papa ’ll care ’cause we did n’t mind? ” 
queried Weezy, anxiously. 

“ I s’pect my sister ’ll care, any way, and she ’ll 
tell my mamma,” whined Kisty, shivering as the 


6o 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


wind whizzed about her shorn head. “ I think 
Jimmy was real mean to make us go to that 
place.” 

“ Oh, dear, my mamma said for me not to 
have any more money this week, Kisty Nye ! 
Mamma said for us to come straight home, 
too ! ” 

“ Say, Weezy Rowe, let ’s not tell ! Let ’s 
make believe we did n’t go to Mr. Stubbs’s ! ” 

“ Why, Kisty Nye, we did go ! you know we 
did ; and we Ve bought the horrid old tissue- 
paper. Wish ’twas all tored up ! ” 

“ Let ’s throw it away ! ” 

“ Yes, yes, let ’s do ! ” said Weezy, quickly. 
But the next moment she cried, “ No, no, Kisty, 
let’s don’t! If we don’t tell mamma ’bout it, 
’t won’t be a truthahle story I ” 

“ Oh, oh, Weezy Rowe, we ’re most to your 
house ! Walk just as slow as ever you can I ” 
My mamma sees us ; she ’s tapping on the 
window I ” groaned Weezy, hopping wildly up 


THE BARBER. 


6l 


and down. “ Let ’s don't tell, Kisty ; mamma ’ll 
feel so bad ! Quick, let ’s hide the paper ! ” 

In the twinkling of an eye Kisty dropped the 
telltale roll outside the gate, and with Weezy’s 
help heaped snow above it. Then hand in hand 
the naughty children slunk into the sitting-room, 
where Mrs. Rowe sat basting a kitchen apron 
for Molly to make for the fair. 

“ My hair feels orfiil funny,” began Weezy, 
too guilty to keep still. 

“ My hair feels funny too,” echoed Kisty, 
untying her bonnet, and showing her uneven 
locks bristling up here and there in tufts like 
little paint-brushes. 

“Why, children, what could Mr. Shaw have 
been thinking of to cut your hair so wretch- 
edly?” said Mrs. Rowe, laughing till the tears 
came, though she was really very much vexed. 
“ Did he cut it himself, Weezy? ” 

“ N-no, mamma. ’T was n’t Mr. Shaw; 
’t was — ’t was — another man ! ” 


62 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


“ Indeed ! A tall man, or a short man? ” 

“ Some tall, and some short, mamma. Hark, 
don’t you hear Bruno whining? ” 

“ Never mind Bruno now, Weezy,” returned 
her mamma, grieved to see that the children 
avoided meeting her eye. “ Have n’t you 
something more to tell me?” 

“ We saw the darlingest little colt, mamma,” 
said Weezy, twirling her mitten by the thumb. 

“ Hitched to a hand-sled ; it was — a lovely 
blue one — and it had a white face,” said 
Kisty. 

Mrs. Rowe quietly threaded her needle. 

“And red reins on him; didn’t he, Kisty? 
Say, mamma, can’t I let poor Bruno in? ” 

“ Did you bring home your curls, Weezy? ” 
“Yes, mamma; see, they’re all waxy! ” 

A long pause, during which Kisty buttoned 
and unbuttoned her overshoes, and Weezy kept 
on twirling her mittens. 

“ Have these little girls been good this after- 


THE BARBER 63 

noon?” asked Mrs. Rowe presently, laying 
aside her work. 

A longer pause ; then, — 

“Is it naughty to go to the new barber’s, 
mamma, and let folks cut your hairs that are n’t 
Mr. Shaw?” faltered Weezy. 

“ And to take the two nickels what they give 
you back, and buy something what you said we 
must n’t, with ’em ? ” added Kisty, twisting her 
neck to gaze at nothing. 

Here Bruno finished the story by dashing in 
with the roll of tissue-paper that he had dug 
from the snow-drift. He ran directly to Mrs. 
Rowe, and laid it at her feet. She looked very 
grave as she opened it and spread out the 
rumpled sheets. 

“ You know very well, Weezy, whether you 
have been naughty or not,” said she. “ Was it 
right to disobey papa, and after that to spend 
papa’s money without leave? What do you 
think?” 


64 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“ I think it was hateful horrid, mamma,” 
sobbed Weezy, burying her face in her mother’s 
lap. “ Kisty was some horrid, too ; but Jimmy 
was the horridest.” 

“ And was n’t it very wrong to hide what you 
had done? ” 

The children bobbed their droll little heads. 

“ Of course half the paper belongs to Kisty’s 
mamma, Weezy, and the other half to your 
papa.” 

“ Ho ! papa would n’t want it ! He can’t 
make May-baskets.” 

“ No, but Molly can. I think I shall ask him 
to give his share of the paper to Molly to use 
for the fair.” 

Oh, mamma, can’t I have a teenty mite? ” 
No, dear. I am sorry for my little girl, but 
she has been so naughty that I can’t let her 
make any May-baskets for a whole week.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


PIN-BALL DAY. 

Molly had a good cry over the loss of her 
little sister’s curls, but as soon as she could dry 
her eyes went briskly to work to form a sewing- 
circle. She spoke of the circle first to her best 
friend, Inez Dutton, and then she and Inez 
talked about it with the girls at school. By the 
end of the week they had found twenty ready to 
join it; and the following Saturday they met 
these girls at Dr. Wyman’s. 

Mrs. Wyman was busy preparing articles for 
sewing. 

“ I have been cutting up the pretty bits of 
silks and velvets you ’ve sent me, girls,” said 
she, when all were seated around the cleared 
dining-table. “ Here they are, basted into pin- 


5 


66 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

balls and needle-books. Which shall we make 
first?” 

“ Let ’s begin with the easiest, auntie,” said 
Molly Rowe, who seemed to feel the care of the 
meeting. “ Let ’s call to-day Pin-ball day.” 

“ Very well ; then pass around the basket of 
pin-balls, please, and the spools of silk in that 
box next Inez Dutton.” 

“ Oh, dear,” sighed Inez, feeling in her 
pocket, “I do believe I Ve forgotten my 
thimble.” 

But Inez had not forgotten to wear her new 
blue dress, of that you may be sure. She never 
forgot to look as pretty as she could. 

“Ah, girls, what shall we do with members 
of our society who forget their thimbles? ” asked 
Mrs. Wyman, sportively. “ Don’t you think 
they should pay forfeits?” 

“ Yes, yes ! ” cried a chorus of voices. “ Inez, 
choose Mrs. Wyman for your judge, won’t 
you?” 


PIN-BALL DAY. 6/ 

'' All right/' laughed Inez, smoothing out her 
overskirt. 

“Well, dear, then I sentence you to read aloud 
to us from some interesting book. If this be 
your mind, girls, you will please say ‘ Ay.’ ” 

The “ ayes ” that followed were almost 
deafening. 

“ I can’t read fit to be heard ! ” said Inez ; 
though the truth was, she thought she could 
read remarkably well. 

“ Don’t be troubled, dear. We ’re not going 
to criticise you, but to listen to one of Hans 
Christian Andersen’s tales,” replied Mrs. Wyman 
politely, secretly wishing that Inez cared less 
for being admired. 

The reading proved very entertaining. When 
Inez grew hoarse she handed the book to Molly 
and sewed with Molly’s thimble; while Molly 
read till twilight came, and with it came the end 
of the story. 

“ Oh, auntie, I think it ’s just lovely to work 


68 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


for charity,” cried Molly, as the girls replaced 
their pin-balls in the basket. “ I wish it was the 
beginning of the afternoon.” 

So do I ! So do I ! ” echoed the others. 

I ’m glad, my dears. I hoped you would 
have a happy time,” said Mrs. Wyman, so cor- 
dially, that the girls went away without once 
suspecting how tired she was. 

“ Most of them know very little about sewing, 
and this makes it a little hard for me at first,” 
she remarked to her husband, who came in 
soon after with Weezy. “ I shall get used to 
it presently.” • 

According to present symptoms, I ’m afraid 
I shall have you for a patient before then.” 

‘‘Oh, no, doctor; don’t flatter yourself,” said 
she, gayly. “ It is a clear case of fatigue. 
Weezy shall sing to us. That will rest me.” 

“ How funny ! ” cried Weezy, frisking away 
for her auntie’s guitar. “ When my mamma ’s 
all tired, my mamma does n’t say that way. 


PIN-BALL DAY. 69 

My mamma says, ‘Weezy, Weezy, be quiet. 

You make mamma’s head ache.’ ” 

“ That ’s because your mamma has a little girl 

that sing to her all day long,” laughed Mrs. 

Wyman, tuning her guitar. “ Now climb up on 

the table, dearie, where uncle and I can see you. 

I want to hear ‘ Once there was a Lady.’ ” 

She had taken some pains to teach Weezy 

this, and the child went through it to-night very 

gracefully, acting out each stanza as she sang it. 

In the midst of the performance Kirke came to 

lead his little sister home. 

“That’s jolly, Weezy,” cried he, clapping his 

hands as if he were at a concert. “ Give us that 

last over again, won’t you ? ” 

“ The little-bit-of-est Wade boy keeps a-sing- 

ing it, and a-singing it. It ’s ’most wored out,” 

said she; but she began anew: — 

“ ‘ Once there was a dandy 
Went this way and that way. 

Went this way and that way. 

And this way and that.’ ” 


70 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Weezy was a fine mimic ; and to see her now 
strutting back and forth on the table, squinting 
through a make-believe eye-glass and twirling 
a make-believe mustache, was very funny in- 
deed. Kirke declared it was as good as a cir- 
cus. “ Say, auntie, if you have a fair I wish 
you ’d get Weezy to sing that,” cried he, when 
his little sister had finished her song and run 
out to beg a cookie from Pocahontas the col- 
ored maid. “ I ’d give anything to have the 
boys see her.” 

“ I ’m afraid she is rather young to appear in 
public,” said Mrs. Wyman, laughing; but she’s 
as eager to work for the fair as you or Molly.” 

Oh, Molly’s crazy about the fair,” said Kirke, 
curling his lip. “ She ’s got a new wrinkle to- 
night, — a bureau scarf. Bought the cloth on 
her way home from here; coarse stuff just like 
roller towels. Been teasing me to help her 
twitch out the threads, too. As if I want to do 
girls’ work ! ” 



uHina! 

«T|) 

if ) 

KSjfJ. % 

j- ! i j 


£J 


— Page 70, 



“ Once there was a dandy.’* 



PIN-BALL DAY. 


71 


If Kirke had but known it, this despised 
scarf bade fair to be a beauty; it also bade 
fair to be a great trial of patience. Indeed, 
Molly had not finished the first wheel in the 
Mexican border before she wished the whole 
thing in the fire ; but being a persevering little 
body, she stitched on with all her might. She 
had set her heart upon helping along the Boys’ 
Reading Room as much as she could, and it was 
a sore point with her that Kirke would not do 
his part. 

He had begun with the best intentions; he 
had even gone to the length of spending on 
white-wood twenty cents of the fifty received 
each month from his uncle Wyman ; but having 
spoiled his first bracket, he had dropped the jig- 
saw in disgust, and ended his labors by whittling 
himself a bow-gun. 

“ I think it was so selfish of him to make 
that, mamma, when he might have been making 
something for the fair,” said Molly the next 


72 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Saturday, as she stitched away at the scarf, while 
Kirke stood before the window shooting at 
the gate-latch and missing it five times out 
of ten. 

Your brother is younger than you are, dear, 
you must remember,” said Mrs. Rowe, sewing 
a button on Weezy’s Sunday cloak; and be- 
sides, boys seldom feel as much interest as girls 
do in preparing for festivals.” 

‘‘ That ’s because boys are lazy, mamma. I 
wouldn ’t be so lazy for anything, or so stingy 
either.” And Molly closed one eye, and sur- 
veyed the finished corner of her scarf with su- 
preme satisfaction. She was highly pleased with 
herself to-day, for no longer ago than last night 
had she not overheard her Uncle Doctor telling 
Aunt Clara that Molly was a dear, warm-hearted 
girl, generous to a fault? She did not quite 
like to repeat this, but she wished her mamma 
had heard it. Mamma never seemed to con- 
sider her at all remarkable. In this comfortable 


PIN-BALL DAY. 


73 


mood, it was peculiarly trying to Molly to have 
her mother say just then, — 

“ Don’t be vainglorious, my child. If boys 
have faults, girls have them too. We are none 
of us perfect.” 

“ As if I thought I was perfect, mamma ! 
How can you talk that way? Suppose I don’t 
know that I ’ve got the horridest temper in the 
family? ” blazed Molly, flying out of the room. 

“ ‘ He had searched the whole world over, 

To find a four-leaf clover,’ ” 

sang Kirke, rushing in with his bow-gun under 
his arm, and with Weezy close at his heels. 

“ Oh, mamma, it ’s poison cold,” wailed she. 
See, my arms are all duck-skin.” 

“ You mean they ’re all goose-flesh, you little 
parrot,” cried Kirke, spinning her about. “ Did 
you ever, ever see such a funny girl, mamma? ” 
“ Your cap, my son ! ” 

Kirke wants to wear his new cap every 
single, dingle minute,” said Weezy, scornfully. 


74 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

while her mother warmed the little chilled fin- 
gers in her own. He ’s proud because it ’s 
got a supervisor^ mamma; he’s just as proud 
as he can be.” 

“ I was going right out again, mamma,” an- 
swered Kirke, twitching off the cap with a 
shamefaced air. “You know it’s the last day 
of the month, and I ’m going to Uncle Doctor’s 
for my wages. And, mamma,” — Kirke stole 
both arms about his mother’s neck as she sat in 
the low rocker, — “ please, mamma, after I ’ve 
got the money can’t I keep on down town and 
buy the little engine I saw yesterday at Mr. 
Kendall’s?” 

“ Are you sure you won’t tire of it in a day? ” 
“ Yes, sure, mamma, certain sure ! ” 

“ And that you won’t whistle in your sisters’ 
ears, or annoy Lovisa with it? ” 

“ Oh, yes, yes, mamma ! ” 

“ Well, you may buy it if you like, my son; 
but I ’d leave the bow-gun at home.” 


PIN-BALL DAY. 


75 


** Oh, mamma, don’t make me do that. I 
won’t shoot at anybody ; I won’t, honest.” 

“ Will you be very, very careful? Then I ’ll 
let you take it; but remember I can’t settle 
any more bills for damages,” said Mrs. Rowe 
playfully, presenting her lips for a good-by 
kiss. 

Yes, mamma, I ’ll remember,” cried Kirke, 
throwing up his cap and catching it on his head 
as it came down. 

Then he frisked away, fitting an arrow to the 
string; while Weezy watched him from the win- 
dow, and sang softly to herself, — 

*• ‘ He had searched the holder over, 

To find a four-leaf clover.’ ” 


CHAPTER VII. 


OLD SKINFLINT. 

At the second corner Kirke had to pass a 
brown stone mansion guarded by two of the 
fiercest stone lions that ever were seen. This 
mansion had lately changed owners, and the 
present name on the doorplate was S. K. 
Flint, usually read by the boys of the neigh- 
borhood, “ Skinflint.’* I grieve to add that 
some of the most ill-mannered went further, 
and secretly styled the wealthy proprietor “ Old 
Skinflint ; ” partly because he was very, very 
thin, partly because he was called extremely 
exact in money matters. 

Kirke had such a dread of meeting this stern- 
looking, eagle-eyed stranger that he often 


OLD SKINFLINT. 


77 


crossed the street before coming to the grim 
lions; but this morning he never thought of 
Colonel Flint. He was thinking of the bewitch- 
ing little steam-engine he was about to purchase ; 
and shaping his course by the flights of his 
arrow, he skipped along in front of the stone 
mansion, the happiest lad in Gallatin. 

But that very moment something happened, 
— something so dreadful that Kirke felt ready to 
faint. Like poor little robin, he did n’t shoot 
right.” In aiming at a tree he let his arrow slip, 
and sent it straight through a window, — through 
Colonel Flint’s window, of all windows in the 
world ! There was a sound of crashing glass 
and hurrying feet, — Kirke’s feet scampering 
away with all their might. 

Before he paused for breath Kirke was nearly 
home, and then he wished himself a hundred 
miles distant. For a moment he actually 
thought of stealing off again without confessing 
what he had done; but being in the main an 


78 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

honorable little boy, he finally plucked up cour- 
age to go to his mother with the truth. 

He found her in the dining-room, where Molly 
had waylaid her to beg pardon for her recent 
burst of temper. 

“ Oh, mamma, what shall I do? I never can 
tell Colonel Flint ; I never, never can ! said 
he, ending his story with a groan. 

“Why, Kirke! Is this my brave little boy? 
Think a moment. Jimmy Maguire told of his 
fault. You don’t want to be a greater coward 
than Jimmy.” 

“ I ’d have told if I ’d been in Jimmy’s place, 
mamma. I would n’t have sneaked, and let 
another boy take my whipping. But there 
were n’t any other boys on the street this morn- 
ing besides me ; so nobody ’ll be caught. And, 
mamma, I know Colonel Flint could n’t have 
seen me behind that tall hedge. Why need I 
own up?” 

“ Because it is the right thing to do, my son. 


OLD SKINFLINT. 


79 


It would n’t be honest to injure a man’s prem- 
ises, and not try to repair the damage.” 

“ Then, mamma, why could n’t you send 
Colonel Flint the money in a letter? Say the 
money is to pay for his glass that somebody 
broke.” 

“ Oh, Kirke, Kirke, would that be a manly 
way for you to settle it?” said Mrs. Rowe, pat- 
ting him fondly on the shoulder. “ Do you 
think a boy nine years old ought to hide be- 
hind his mother?” 

“ But, mamma. Colonel Flint ’ll scowl at me 
so ! He ’ll scold, and call me heedless ! ” 

“And weren’t you heedless? This is the 
second window you ’ve shattered with that 
same arrow. Your papa paid for the other. 
Ought n’t you to pay for this one yourself? 
It will teach you to be careful.” 

“ But I can’t pay for it, mamma, you know 
I can’t. I sha’ n’t have but just money enough 
to buy the steam-engine,” returned Kirke, very 
earnestly. 


8o 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


Mrs. Rowe tried not to smile. 

“ If you can’t afford the engine now, Kirke, 
I suppose you might possibly do without it till 
you receive your next month’s wages,” said 
she, quietly; “but you surely can’t afford to be 
in debt one hour. Before Colonel Flint goes 
down town, I ’d run over and ask him the cost 
of the glass.” 

“ Oh, mamma, I ’d sooner ask Mr. Prince to 
flog me ! I ’d ’most sooner ask papa not to 
give me the watch ! But if I must tell Colonel 
Flint, I ’ll tell him this blessed minute ! ” 

Though she thought it wisest not to say it, 
Mrs. Rowe’s heart ached for her boy as she saw 
him start off again up the street, walking this 
time with trembling knees and bent shoulders, 
like an old, old man. 

“ Wish I was in Jericho ; good mind to run 
away,” mused he, mounting the broad steps 
between the stone lions. “I ’ll smash that ever- 
lasting bow-gun, see if I don’t ! I ’ll whittle it 
into jackstraws, and give ’em to the fair.” 


OLD SKINFLINT. 


8l 


As he pulled the bell his hand shook like 
an autumn leaf, and when he was shown into 
the library he stumbled over the Persian rug; 
but in spite of his fright he managed to drag 
off his cap and bow to Colonel Flint, seated 
near the shivered window. 

“ Well, young man, what ’s your business with 
me?” asked the Colonel curtly, with a sharp 
glance at Kirke over his morning paper. 

“ I ’m sorry, sir, I ’m very sorry, but I — but 
I — ” Here Kirke’s carefully prepared speech 
slipped away from him, and he dropped his 
eyes as if searching for it in his cap. 

“ H-m ! rather unusual, is n’t it, for a boy to 
be sorry?” said Colonel Flint, with sarcasm. 
“ As a general thing, I find it is the grown peo- 
ple who are sorry. The boys make them so ! ” 

What piercing eyes the man had ! Looking 
up through gathering tears, Kirke could almost 
fancy he saw needles shooting from them. 

“ I ’ve been doing mischief. I did n’t mean 


6 


82 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


to,” faltered he, wishing Colonel Flint would 
be kind enough to wink. “ I was the boy that 
broke your glass.” 

“ Oh, ho ! So that smash-up was some of 
your work ! A pretty piece of impudence it 
was, too ! Whose boy are you ? ” 

“ I ’m Mr. Rowe’s boy. I live over there in 
the Queen Anne cottage,” replied Kirke, feel- 
ing no bigger than a fly. Was it possible the 
Colonel did n’t know his near neighbors? 

And you ’re practising archery, hey, and 
use my house for a target? ” 

“ Oh, no, sir ! I was shooting at the big 
willow, and somehow the arrow went crooked, 
and — Please, sir, what ’ll it cost to mend the 
window? I ’ll come right back and bring the 
money.” 

“Cost? It’ll costa good half-dollar. Why 
did n’t you bring the cash with you if you really 
meant to settle the bill?” cried Colonel Flint, 
watching Kirke more sharply than ever. 


OLD SKINFLINT. 


83 


“ Because Uncle Wyman has n’t paid me my 
month’s wages yet. He owes me fifty cents 
to-day, and I ’m just going for it.” 

‘‘Your Uncle Wyman? He is the doctor, I 
suppose. Well, I ’ll wait till you come back, 
young man. Collect your salary as quick as 
you please, and hand me over my just dues.” 

“ Old Skinflint ! He need n’t hurry a fellow 
so ! ” muttered Kirke, darting away as swift as his 
own arrow, and much more true to the mark. 

In less than fifteen minutes he returned with 
the silver half-dollar. 

“ So it took you a whole month, you say, to 
earn this,” remarked Mr. Flint, coolly pocketing 
the shining coin. “ Where money comes in so 
slowly, I should n’t think you could afford to 
waste it in this fashion. Don’t you find it an 
expensive pastime to go around damaging peo- 
ple’s property?” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Kirke, wheeling quickly to 
hide the quivering of his lip. 


84 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“ In future, you ’ll be more cautious, I fancy.” 

Yes, sir,” repeated Kirke, hurrying toward 
the door. “ Good-morning.” 

“ Don’t be in haste, my boy. Come back ! 
Let us talk this matter over,” said Colonel Flint, 
in quite another tone. “ I hope you understand 
that this money belongs to me by right? ” 

Kirke bowed, with one hand on the door- 
knob. He thought it rather hard that after 
paying his half-dollar he should have to stay to 
be “ talked to ” besides. 

You admit that it was proper that you 
should atone for your carelessness? 

“ Why, yes. Colonel Flint.” 

“ That ’ll do, my boy. Now, come and take 
back your fifty cents. I choose to make you a 
present of it.” 

“Oh, no, thank you, Mr. Skin — Mr. Flint, I 
mean,” gasped Kirke, checking himself only just 
in time. “ Mamma told me to — she said I 
must give it to you.” 


OLD SKINFLINT. 


85 


“ That shows that your mother is a sensible 
woman,” replied Colonel Flint, wrinkling his 
face into a smile ; but I don’t want your poor 
little earnings, child. Put the change in your 
pocket.” 

“ I can’t. Colonel Flint, I thank you,” per- 
sisted bewildered Kirke. “ Mamma said — ” 

“ She said you ought to pay the penalty for 
your mischief, did n’t she? ” interrupted Colonel 
Flint. Well, I think she was right; I felt the 
same way myself, and that was why I insisted 
upon having the money. Now, the money is 
mine, and if I prefer to give it to you it is my 
own lookout. I can’t be hard on a boy ready 
to make amends.” 

“ And after that, mamma, he took me into 
his greenhouse and picked me these roses,” said 
Kirke that night when he had told his story; 
“ and he talked to me as pleasant as could be. 
Did n’t I feel mean then, to remember how we 
boys had nicknamed him? I wanted to hide 


86 


LITTLE MISS WEEZ^S BROTHER. 


my head. You ’ll never catch me to say ‘ Old 
Skinflint ’ again ; see if you will.” 

I ’m sure I hope I never shall, my son. 
What did Colonel Flint talk about? ” 

Oh, he asked me what books I read, and 
what boys I played with; and I told him about 
the watch papa is going to give me, and about 
the fair; and he said he ’d like to help.” 

“What can he make? Did he show you his 
jig-saw?” asked Weezy, deeply interested. 

“ Colonel Flint means, I suppose, that he 
would like to help the fair by giving money for 
it,” said Mrs. Rowe, glancing warningly toward 
Kirke. “ He is very kind, is n’t he, Weezy? ” 

“ And to begin with, he ’s given me an order 
for a dozen sets of jackstraws,” said Kirke, open- 
ing his knife with an air of great importance. 
“ I ’m going right to work at ’em ; and you ’d 
better believe I ’ll whittle ’em like a brick.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


PERCUSSION-CAPS. 

Kirke could work very rapidly when he 
chose, and he was not long in whittling the first 
set of jackstraws. But the second set hung 
about for days ; and the third was barely begun 
before his cousin, Mr. Henry Bishop, arrived at 
Gallatin. He had come to play the organ at 
the church which the Rowes attended, and 
had been invited to spend several weeks at 
the Queen Anne cottage. Kirke, who was very 
fond of his cousin, made this visit an excuse 
for suspending his labors for the fair; Molly, 
on the contrary, toiled as hard as ever. 

One Saturday, while she was stitching upon 
the bureau scarf with nervous haste, her little 


88 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

sister danced into the room to beg her to write 
a letter. 

“ Don’t bother me, Weezy,” said Molly, wax- 
ing her thread ; I want to finish this before I 
go to the Sewing Circle. I must hurry, or I 
sha’ n’t have time to call for Inez ; and I ’m 
just dying to tell Inez what Colonel Flint has 
done about the Reading-Room.” 

‘‘ Grandma said for me to send her a letter,” 
pleaded Weezy; grandma said for me to send 
her a letter every single once in a while.” 

** You ’re joggling my elbow,” said Molly, 
moving back her chair with a frown. 

For about a minute Weezy stood silent, 
watching Molly’s bright needle flash in a zigzag 
course in and out of the openwork border; 
then she exclaimed in a longing tone, — 

Wish I could make those little cunning 
wheels ! ” 

“ Well, you can when you get big.” 

‘‘ Oh, dear ! I can’t get big before the 


PERCUSSION-CAPS. 89 

fair. The fair ’ll come too soon for me to 
grow. Please, Molly, show me something to 
do.” 

Now you ’re snarling my fringe ! ” responded 
Molly, coldly. “ I do wish you would run 
off, Weezy. Go ask mamma what you can 
make.” 

“ Mamma sent me in here ; she ’s getting 
baby to sleep. I ’spect mamma thought you ’d 
rentertain your little sister,” said Weezy, re- 
proachfully. 

No response. 

Kisty Nye has cut out a tissue pink dress 
for her new dolly.” 

Still no response. 

Oh, I’m orfid lonesome. You won’t speak to 
me, Molly Rowe ; you keep just as still as a — 
as a buttonhole,” wailed Weezy sadly, twirling 
one of the coral studs that fastened her blouse 
waist. 

“ What do you want to talk about? ” 


90 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“Oh, I want to talk about Mr. Cousin Bishop. 
I wish he’d stay in this house and tell me 
stories.” 

“ He ’s gone over to Mr. Nye’s.” 

“ He went to Mr. Nye’s yesterday too, and 
that other day before yesterday. He keeps 
a-goin’ and a-goin’. I should n’t think he ’d 
keep a-goin’ to Mr. Nye’s when we’re his 
cousins and they ’re nothing but folks ! ” 

“ If you won’t say anything to Mr. Bishop 
about it, Weezy, I’ll tell you a great secret. 
Cousin Henry Bishop is going to marry Kisty 
Nye’s sister.” 

“Is he, truly? And doesn’t he know it?” 
cried Weezy, clapping her hands. 

“Yes, yes, you little Chatterbox; he knows 
it, but it would n’t be polite for you to talk to 
him about it.” 

“ Would n’t it? Does Kisty Nye’s sister know 
it too?” 


“ Why, yes, of course she does. 


PERCUSSION-CAPS. 


91 


** Does she like it? Who told Mr. Cousin 
Bishop to marry her? ” 

‘‘ Nobody told him. He loves her; and when 
people love people they marry ’em,” explained 
Molly, not very clearly. 

** Do they have to ’thout they want to? ” que- 
ried Weezy, evidently startled by the news. 

“ No, indeed ! What a silly question ! ” 

“ Oh, I ’m glad,” said Weezy, with a sigh of 
relief. But, Molly, after Mr. Cousin Bishop 
marries Kisty Nye’s sister, what ’ll he be then? 
Will they call him Kisty’s uncle?” 

No, no ; he ’ll be Kisty’s brother-in-law.’^ 

‘‘ Will he, — that great tall man ! Why, 
what for?” 

Oh, dear me, Weezy Rowe, if you ’re 
bound to ask questions forever and ever, I ’d 
rather write the letter ! ” groaned Molly, throw- 
ing aside her work and marching away for pen 
and ink. 

“ Mamma told me not to tease, and I never 


92 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

teased a word ; I should n’t think you ’d speak 
so cross to me,” said Weezy, beginning to 
cry. 

“ There, there, Duxie Dearie, I won’t be cross 
any more ! ” exclaimed Molly, melted at once by 
her little sister’s tears. “ Come and sit by me, 
and tell what I shall write to grandma. I ’ll put 
down every single word.” 

“ Oh, goody, goody! ” cried Weezy, climbing 
upon the sofa, and laying her little shorn head 
on Molly’s shoulder. “ You ’re the bestest girl 
in this town. I love you all to pieces.” 

That ’s a darling, only don’t tip over the ink- 
bottle,” returned Molly, wiping her pen. “ There, 
now I ’m ready.” 

This was Weezy’s letter: — 

Dear Grandma, — Baby was three months old yes- 
terday, and mamma let us call it a birthday. It was n’t 
a party, only three candles on a cake. I ’most made 
him a surprise. It was going to be a bib. Molly gave 
him a rubber ring to cut his teeth with, only he has n’t 
any teeth. My front tooth keeps wiggling. Mamma 


PERCUSSION-CAPS. 


93 


says there ’s another tooth under it. I don’t see how it 
got under. 

Jimmy Maguire is a real acting boy, so Molly is 
going to have a fair. It is something where you buy 
ice-cream and pin-balls. I meant to write you before, 
grandma, but didn’t remember to. I send you and 
grandpa six kisses. Good-by. From your affectioning 
little granddaughter. Weezy. 

Kirke burst into the room as Molly was fold- 
ing the letter. 

Oh, Molly, we ’re going to have such fun, 
Jimmy and I ! ” panted he, brushing her paper 
off the table as he darted by into the closet. 

Oh, Kirke, how careless ! ” cried Molly, 
springing to catch the flying sheets. “ What 
is it you’re going to do?” 

“ Sha’ n’t tell ; it ’s a secret. Won’t folks 
open their eyes, though ! ” exclaimed he, dash- 
ing out of the closet the next moment with a 
small round box hidden in his hand. It was 
one given him that morning by Mr. Henry 
Bishop, and it contained percussion-caps. 


94 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Molly did not see the box, but she was not 
slow to see that her brother had some unusual 
scheme on foot. 

Dear me, mamma, Kirke 's getting into mis- 
chief, I ’m afraid,” said she to her mother just 
entering from the dining-room. “ He ’s been 
rummaging the closet, and now he ’s run off up 
street as fast as ever he can run.” 

“ ’Cause he and Jimmy Maguire are doing a 
secret,” put in Weezy, skipping down from the 
sofa to show her letter. 

Mrs. Rowe sighed. She had feared of late 
that Jimmy was not a safe comrade for her 
frolicsome little son; and yet she hardly liked 
to forbid his playing with Kirke, for she pitied 
Jimmy, and wished she might help him to be 
good. 

‘‘ I don’t approve of such secrets,” said she, 
looking anxiously from the window. “ If you 
see Kirke on your way to Aunt Clara’s, Molly, 
you may tell him I want him.” 


PERCUSSION-CAPS. 


95 


But though Molly hastened, she reached Mr. 
Dutton’s without overtaking her brother. 

“ Oh, Inez, Colonel Flint has promised us a 
chamber in the new library building,” gasped 
she, meeting Inez in the hall. 

“For the Reading-Room? How perfectly 
splendid ! ” 

“ And you don’t know how interested he is in 
Jimmy Maguire, and all those other boys. He 
told papa that Jimmy had never had a decent 
chance in life, and he ’d like to give him a lift. 
Papa says the Colonel is full of good works.” 

“ He ’s full of wrinkles, any way,” said pretty 
Inez, stealing a glance at the hall mirror. “ I 
should think his face would ache, all squizzled 
up so.” 

“ His skin looks as if it had been quilted,” 
returned Molly, laughing. “ But then he has 
been ever so nice about the Reading-Room,” 
she added penitently, as she went down the 
steps behind Inez. 


96 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 


“ He ’s pretty cross.” 

“ That ’s because he has been ill so long. 
His nerves are all worn out, Uncle Doctor 
says.” 

“ Oh, well, I should n’t mind that if I had all 
his money,” remarked Inez, tiptoeing over the 
wet crossing. “ Let ’s hurry to tell Mrs. Wyman 
what he said.” 

But as the girls came out upon Main Street 
Inez suddenly paused, crying, — 

“ Why, Molly Rowe, look over there by the 
lamp-post! Do you see that crowd of boys? 
There ’s Kirke among ’em, and that red- 
haired Jimmy Maguire. What are they staring 
at?” 

Molly glanced anxiously at the corner oppo- 
site, and saw a knot of boys gazing intently up 
the street. Yes, her brother was one of them. 
Since meeting Inez she had not thought of 
Kirke. 

“ I ’m sure I don’t know what they ’re star- 


PERCUSSION-CAPS. 


97 


ing at/* said she, turning to look for herself. 
“ There is n’t a circus coming, or even so much 
as a hand-organ. I can’t see an earthly thing 
besides the street-car.” 

“ And that is poky enough, I should hope,” 
scoffed Inez, watching the car as it jingled 
slowly down the hill. “ You ought to see how 
fast the Baltimore horses trot. Why, when 
papa and I were in Baltimore — Oh, my pa- 
tience, Molly Rowe ! What was that? ” 

“ A pistol, I do believe ! Hark ! there goes 
another, and another! Oh dear, what is it?” 
What was it, indeed ? 

Fizz, bang I fizz, bang 1 fizz I 
The horses, no longer “ poky,” reared on 
their hind legs and sprang into a gallop, and 
the faster they galloped, the faster rang those 
startling reports. 

“ Oh, oh, it ’s under the car-wheels ! It ’s 
those horrid boys I ” cried Molly, her great blue 
eyes wild with excitement. “ They ’ve been 


7 


98 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

putting torpedoes on the rails! And Kirke’s 
one of ’em 1 ” 

She did not mean to say that her brother 
was a torpedo ; of course not. She did not know 
what she was saying. Neither did Inez. Both 
were breathlessly watching the flying car, and 
the sparks flashing beneath it as it advanced. 
It was already nearing the corner. In another 
moment it had reached it, and in dashing 
around the curve had jumped the rails. 

“ See, see I the horses have stopped 1 They 
can’t run, when the car is off the track ! ” 
exclaimed Inez, for the first time moving from 
the spot where she had stood clasping Molly’s 
waist. “ Now I hope the driver ’ll catch those 
boys, — not your brother Kirke, you know, but 
the rest of ’em. Why, Molly Rowe, where are 
they? Where are all those boys? ” 

“Sure enough, where are they?’* repeated 
Molly, gazing about as she hurried on to the 
Sewing Circle with Inez. “ If I could find 


PERCUSSION-CAPS. 


99 


Kirke I ’d send him home to mamma ; but I 
can’t see a single boy.” 

Neither could the angry driver see one ; but 
Kirke’s father, looking from the car-window at 
that moment, caught a fleeting glimpse of his 
own little son dodging around a distant corner. 

When Molly returned home that evening her 
papa was talking very seriously to Kirke. 

“ I don’t object to }’our having plenty of fun, 
my boy,” he was saying, “ provided it is good, 
honest fun. But to make sport for yourself at 
the expense of other people is a mean thing. 
Just think how you frightened the ladies in the 
car ; was that kind ? ” 

‘‘ The boys stumped me to put my percussion- 
caps on the rails, papa. I should ift have done 
it if they had n’t,” stammered Kirke, taking out 
his pocket-handkerchief as Molly opened the 
door. 

Well, what if they did stump you to do it? 
Was that any excuse for your doing it? Oh, 


lOO LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Kirke, you must have more moral courage. 
When anybody stumps you to do wrong, you 
must say to yourself, ‘ I won’t listen ; I won’t be 
naughty.’ ” 

But, papa, you would n’t want the boys 
to call you a coward ; I know you would n’t, 
papa.” 

“ No, if I were a little boy like you I suppose 
I should n’t. But it is n’t half so bad to be 
called a coward, Kirke, as it is to be one. And 
you are a coward when you don’t dare to do 
right. Try to remember that.” 

“ I ’ll try to try, papa,” answered Kirke, 
dolefully. 

“ You must try with all your might, my son,” 
said his father, as he and Molly and Kirke went 
out to supper. “ You certainly can’t expect me 
to give you a birthday watch unless I see you 
are resolved to be a manly little fellow.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


kirke’s may walk. 

For weeks after this Kirke could not hear a 
street-car spoken of without blushing. In put- 
ting the percussion-caps upon the rails he had 
merely meant to play a harmless joke ; but on 
learning how serious this joke might have been, 
and that he might have been pounced upon by 
the police, he was frightened nearly out of his 
wits. 

Perhaps this fright did him good. At all 
events, it presently began to be remarked in the 
family that he was growing less heedless. He 
was also becoming more industrious, as was 
shown by his working patiently at the jack- 
straws, which by this time he thoroughly de- 
tested. Not that he worked at these every 


102 Lin'LE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

spare moment ! Of a frisky boy like Kirke this 
could hardly be expected, especially in the ^h\d 
springtime when the willows were green. One 
sunny noon, after low-spirited April had crept 
away with wet feet, and May had brought the 
bright- eyed dandelions, he sat astride the gar- 
den gate whittling a willow whistle. At that 
moment there were strange sounds of scraping 
and bumping proceeding from the porch, and 
Weezy and her little friend Kisty Nye appeared, 
dragging a long, slender board. 

“What’s up now?” cried Kirke, pounding 
the whistle with his knife-handle to loosen the 
bark. 

“It’s the seesaw,” said Weezy. “We could 
n’t teeter it on the cricket; the cricket was too 
tippy.” 

“ I ’ll balance it for you,” exclaimed Kirke, 
jumping down and sliding the board between 
the first and second bars of the fence. “ Now 
you sit here on the long side, Weezy, because 


KIRKE’S MAY WALK. 103 

you don’t weigh more than a good-sized kitten. 
Can’t you put a nutmeg in your pocket to make 
you heavier? There you are, — 

‘ Heel and toe, and away you go ! ’ ” 

“ Oh, oh, we ’re just like two little birds fly- 
ing ! ” shouted Weezy, as she and Kisty bal- 
anced up and down in high glee, “ only we 
don’t be singing. Please, Kirke, give us the 
whistle? ” 

“ No, no, you little beggar. I have n’t put 
the noise into it yet, and I can’t stop now. 
There ’s Cousin Henry Bishop coming back 
from Mr. Nye’s. I promised, to go down to 
the church and help him play the organ.” 

Kirke always spoke as if he were assistant 
organist, though he “ helped ” Mr. Bishop sim- 
ply by blowing the bellows. He had helped 
in this manner several times of late, since his 
cousin had been practising new music for Me- 
morial Sunday, and it is only fair to say that 
he had helped very good-naturedly. 


104 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

My brother is a very cape-a-pull boy,” ob- 
served Weezy proudly, turning her head to look 
at him as he joined Mr. Bishop. “ He can cut 
soap with a string, and he can play on a horn 
and on a drum both at once, and make a lovely 
noise.” 

“ Well,” said Kisty, jealous for the credit of 
her own family, “ my brother belongs to the 
Brass Band, and he can play the coronet!' 

“ Hoh, that ’s nothing, Kisty Nye ! Mr. 
Cousin Bishop belongs to the church, and he 
can play the organ.” 

“He can’t play the organ with his mouth, 
can he?” 

“ I don’t care ; he can do something a good 
deal harder than that. He can play it with his 
feet.” 

“ Oh, Weezy Rowe, he can’t ! I don’t believe 
you ’re telling a truthable story ! ” cried Kisty, 
letting go the board and holding up both 
hands. 


KIRKE’S MAY WALK. 


105 


The next instant she was lying on her back 
upon one side of the fence, and Weezy was 
lying upon her nose on the other, and both 
little girls were shrieking at the top of their 
lungs. 

“ Oh, children, tell me this minute, are you 
killed?” shouted Molly, rushing wildly out of 
the house, followed by her mamma. 

“ I guess they ’ll stand it a spell longer, judg- 
ing by the hubbub ! ” cried Lovisa, hurrying 
after with the arnica-bottle. “While they can 
holler like that they can’t be dangerous.” 

As it proved, they were not “ dangerous ” in 
the least, though for a time extremely low in 
their minds. Kisty bemoaned an ugly black- 
and-blue spot upon her arm, and Weezy an ach- 
ing void in her mouth, left by the “wiggly” 
tooth, knocked out by the fall. 

“ Oh, mamma, I ’ve broke my nose, too,” she 
sobbed, terrified by the flowing blood. “ I ’ve 
broke my nose in the middle. Will it make it 


I06 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER, 

be round-shouldered just like Colonel Flint’s? 
Oh, will it, mamma?” 

“ No, indeed, dear. I think it will be quite 
well before tea-time. You know Grandpa Rowe 
is coming to tea.” 

“ It ’s a little weller ’n it was,” said Weezy, 
beginning to take courage. “ I feel ’most ’s if 
I could eat an apple, s’posin’ grandpa should 
happen to bring me one.” 

Then she showed her wounds to Kisty, and 
Kisty in return showed her bruises, and they 
pitied each other in the most friendly way, and 
forgot that there had been a quarrel between 
them. They were in the kitchen playing horse- 
car in the table turned upside down, and Molly 
had gone to the Sewing Circle, when Kirke 
rushed home in high feather, crying, — 

“ Cousin Henry Bishop wants me to help him 
play the organ to-morrow, mamma. Just think 
of it, mamma, — Memorial Sunday, before all 
the people ! ” 


KIRKE’S MAY WALK. 107 

*‘Why does he want you, my son? Where 
is Mr. Riggs? ” 

“ Oh, he can’t blow the organ to-morrow. 
He ’ll have to be at a funeral.” 

“ I ’m afraid, Kirke, you ’re rather giddy for 
the business. Can’t your cousin find some 
older boy? ” 

“ Why, mamma, he wants me. I ’ve got the 
hang of the bellows, you know. I can blow ’em 
as easy as a whistle,” returned Kirke, impa- 
tiently. “ Say, mamma, do you care if I go 
Maying this afternoon?” 

With whom? ” 

Oh, with Johnny Nye, and Perry Wright, 
and two or three others. Only over to Braxton 
Foreside. Do you care? ” 

Yes, Kirke, I do care very much. You re- 
member you were ill last week, and you would 
find it pretty tiresome to tramp three miles 
across the marsh.” 

Oh, no, no, I should n’t, mamma ! ” 


I08 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“ Besides, you would be late to tea, and that 
would disappoint Grandpa Rowe. Grandpa likes 
to have all the children at home to welcome 
him.” 

“What’s the odds, mamma? Grandpa’ll 
stay over Sunday, and he can look at me all 
day long if he chooses. Oh, do let me go 
Maying, mamma! Please, please^ PLEASE ! ” 

Mrs. Rowe looked troubled. It was hard to 
say “ No ” to a little boy eagerly listening for 
“Yes,” — especially hard to say it to a little boy 
who had lately been trying hard to be good ; and 
yet she feared Kirke might be made ill by the 
walk. Finally she answered gravely, — 

“ You shall decide the question for yourself, 
my son. You know I would prefer to have you 
stay at home : I have told you this ; but I 
don’t forbid your going with the boys, — you 
may do as you please.” 

“ Oh, you dear, pretty, old mamma, you ’re 
a diamond I ” cried Kirke, too pleased at having 


KIRKE’S MAY WALK. 


109 


his own way to care at that moment how it was 
granted. “ I ’ll bring you some mayflowers if 
there are any left in the woods, see if I don’t ! ” 

Munching an apple, he frisked off like a happy 
young squirrel ; but, alack and alas ! when he 
came back at night he crept like a woe-begone 
old snail. He had tripped in the bog, wetting 
his feet, soiling his clothes, and, worst of all, 
ruffling his temper. 

“ Why, Kirke Rowe, you ’re a sight to behold ! 
And what are you limping so for?” exclaimed 
Molly, running to the door to meet him. In 
honor of grandpa she had put on her new plaid 
dress, and' tied her wavy auburn hair with pale 
blue ribbons; and she was as fair and fresh as 
Kirke was tanned and tousled. 

“ Boots hurt ! ” growled he, feeling dirtier than 
ever in contrast to his tidy sister. “ Anybody 
in the dining-room?” 

Only mamma and the baby. We ’ve taken 
tea, but Lovisa saved you some waffles.” 


no LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“ I ’m afraid they ’re rather dry, though, by 
this time,” said Mrs. Rowe, as they went into 
the dining-room. “Why, what is the matter, 
my son? Have n’t you enjoyed your holiday? ” 

“ Not much, mamma.” 

“ His boots hurt,” said Molly. “ Do you 
wonder, mamma, with all that clay on them ? ” 

“Won’t you bring his slippers, dear? Your 
brother is so tired,” said Mrs. Rowe, laying the 
baby’s soft cheek against Kirke’s, now glowing 
like a toy balloon. 

“Oh, ’t is n’t all that, mamma; ’t is n’t all 
boots ! ” stammered he the moment Molly was 
out of hearing. “ It ’s — I — ” There he 
paused, very much confused, and stooped to 
brush the dried mud from his knees. 

“ It ’s — what ? Surely, Kirke, you ’re not 
afraid to tell your mamma what it is that has 
prevented your having a good time.” 

“ It ’s meanness, mamma ; it ’s just meanness,” 
he burst forth, hiding his face between her own 


KIRKE’S MAY WALK. 


1 1 1 


and the baby’s. “ It ’s made me mad all the 
afternoon to think how mean I was to go off 
when you did n’t want me to. I no business to 
have teased so. Did n’t have half so good a 
time as I should if I had n’t. Wish now I ’d 
stayed at home ! ” 

Poor Kirke ! On the morrow he more than 
ever wished that he had stayed at home; and 
you will not think this strange if you read what 
follows. 


CHAPTER X. 


BLOWING THE ORGAN. 

Tired as he had been the night before, Kirke 
was yet more tired the next morning. More- 
over, he had taken a slight cold, which made 
him so sore and lame that he could not bear to 
be touched. When Weezy climbed into his lap 
after breakfast, he would have pushed her aside 
if Grandpa Rowe had not been looking that 
way. 

“ I know something,’’ said she, patting his 
stiff neck with vexatious fondness. It ’s 
Memril Sunday, and I ’m going to church, and 
I ’m going to wear my new graham dress.” 

Sit still, can’t you, little girl with a tooth 
out! What do you know about Memorial 
Sunday? ” 


BLOWING THE ORGAN. 


II3 

“ Oh, there ’s soldiers to it, — caps all shiny, 

— and grandpa ’s got to talk to ’em hard, ’cause 
they ’ve been fighting.” 

“ Why, they had to fight, Weezy. Govern- 
ment made ’em.” 

“ Did he? Saucy thing ! Was n’t he horrid? 
Well, and there ’s going to be flags to phurch, 

— bushels and bushels, — and the pulpit with 
flowers on. Oh, oh, won’t it be hee-yoii-ti-fid ? 
I should n’t wonder if it was bee-you-tifuller 
than Donkey Sunday.” 

“ Donkey Sunday ! Why, why, what is the 
little one talking about ? ” exclaimed grandpa, 
looking up from his Bible with a shocked 
face. 

“ I suppose she is thinking of Palm Sunday, 
grandpa,” said Kirke, tittering. “We had spe- 
cial exercises for Sabbath school that day, and 
trimmed the room with evergreens.” 

“ Why, grandpa, did n’t anybody ever tell 
you about the palms?” cried Weezy, springing 
8 


1 14 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

down from her brother’s knees so suddenly that 
he winced. “ Mamma splained ’em to me. It 
was ever so long ago, before Jesus went up to 
heaven, and he was riding into Juice-a-lem. 
He was riding horseback on a little speck of a 
donkey; and the Juice-a-lem people were be- 
lighted to see dear Jesus coming up the street, 
and they threw down pretty green leaves before 
him all the way, so there was n’t a mite of dust, 
— not a teenty mite.” 

“Thank you, my little granddaughter; you 
have remembered the sweet story very well,” 
said Grandpa Rowe, stroking her short hair, now 
beginning to curl about her head in golden 
rings. “ Now I want you to remember one 
thing more. The day on which this happened 
is called Palm Sunday, because the branches 
strewn in the way were palm-branches. Can 
you tell me, Kirke, why the people made use 
of the palm?” 

“ The palm was the emblem of victory, grand- 


BLOWING THE ORGAN. 


II5 

pa, and they wanted to honor Christ,” said 
Kirke, recalling his Sabbath-school lesson. 

I wish I could have helped! ” said Weezy, 
wistfully. 

Dear little lamb ! You can honor Christ 
now. You do honor him every day you are 
good and mind your father and mother,” re- 
turned Grandpa Rowe, stooping to kiss her. 

Then he closed his Bible and put away his 
spectacles, for the bell was ringing for service. 
Kirke hurried off in advance of the rest, to be 
sure to be at church in season for the voluntary. 
It was an old-fashioned church, with the pulpit 
at one end and the gallery for the choir at the 
other. Running up the steps of this gallery, 
Kirke passed by the singers and went through 
the narrow doorway at the right of the organ 
into a deep recess behind it. It was a cosey 
little nook, lighted by the great window over 
the main entrance of the building. 

Whew I how close the air is ! ” muttered he, 


Il6 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

raising the sash and letting in a frolicsome 
breeze that at once rattled the door just left 
ajar. 

Kirke ran back to turn the button, and then 
perched upon a high table near the window to 
watch the people coming up the steps. Without 
being seen himself, he could see everybody. 

‘‘ Oh, what a crowd ! Twice as many folks 
as common,” mused he, enjoying his position. 
“ They don’t dream who ’s up here ready to 
pump the organ for ’em ! There ’s Mr. Prince 
in a necktie ’most as big as he is. He ’s going 
to leave school at the end of this term, and I ’m 
glad of it. Hurrah, here come the veterans ! 
White gloves on, true ’s you live ! Their fingers 
look like candles. Hello ! that ’s papa in his 
old uniform, and that is Uncle Doctor beside 
him.” 

Here the bell ceased to toll. This was the 
signal for striking up the voluntary, and Kirke 
skipped in haste to the bellows. By practice 


BLOWING THE ORGAN. 


II7 

he had learned to blow them very evenly, and 
no fault could be found with his part in the 
opening piece of music, or in the hymn that 
followed. He knew he was doing as well as 
Mr. Riggs himself could have done, and he 
meant to tell the boys about it on the morrow. 

Next came the long prayer, and it was very, 
very long. Through the transom above the 
little organ door Grandpa Rowe’s voice sounded 
far off and indistinct like the murmur of distant 
bees, and weary of listening to it Kirke pres- 
ently crept back to his old place on the table, 
and rested his heavy head upon the window- 
sill. Oh, dear, how hot it had grown, and how 
dreadfully, dreadfully tired he was ! What a 
comfort to lie at his ease in this way, instead of 
sitting bolt upright in a pew! He wished he 
could make a bargain with Mr. Riggs to go to 
a funeral every Sunday. Of course it was hard 
work to blow the organ, but the rest behveen 
times was such — was such — Kirke’s mind wan- 


Il8 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

dered ; the droning hum in his ears grew fainter 
and fainter, till it changed to the soft rustle of 
forest leaves, and before the prayer was ended 
he had floated off into dreamland. There he 
was, locked into the little room fast asleep. 
And nobody knew of it, — not even the choir ! 
The second hymn was given out, and yet he 
slept on, as unconscious as the marble tablets 
each side the pulpit. Who could have believed 
such conduct of Kirke Rowe, usually the most 
wide-awake lad in Gallatin ! So much for his 
fatiguing tramp of yesterday ! When Grandpa 
Rowe had finished reading the hymn, Mr. 
Bishop seated himself at the organ and at- 
tempted to play, but the ivory keys were as 
mute as dominos. 

“ What — what — what does this mean ? ” 
whispered the excited little chorister, speeding 
around to the closed door. Unable to open 
it, he mounted a chair and peeped through the 


transom. 



Kirk and the Organist. — Page 118, 



BLOWING THE ORGAN. 


II9 

Of all things ! I believe the boy ’s asleep ! 
Wake up, you wretch! wake up, I say! For 
mercy’s sake do wake up ! ” cried he in a frantic 
whisper, while the people below, surprised at 
the unusual delay, began to glance over their 
shoulders at the choir. 

Kirke never stirred. 

“ Quick, Mr. Bishop, hand me something to 
throw at the lad, — cushion, hymn-book, no mat- 
ter what ! ” gasped the chorister. 

The church had become so still one might 
have heard a pin drop. Grandpa Rowe in 
the pulpit coughed nervously, uncertain what 
to do. 

“ What makes ’em keep not singing, and not 
singing, mamma?” whispered Weezy behind 
her hand. 

“ I don’t know, dear. Oh, I don’t know ! ” 
murmured troubled Mrs. Rowe, as she caught 
a glimpse of the chorister swinging his arm 
through the transom. He was tossing a pam- 


120 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

phlet at Kirke, and he aimed this so correctly 
that it struck the boy square in the face. Then 
he called to him in a fierce undertone, — 

“ To your bellows, boy ! to your bellows ! 
Blow, blow, blow ! ” 

Startled half out of his wits, Kirke sprang 
up, and began to pump the bellows with all his 
might. The next moment the tardy peal of 
the organ resounded through the church, and 
everybody breathed more freely, — everybody 
but Kirke Rowe. 

The wider awake he grew, the more mortified 
he became, and at the close of the service he 
bolted from the choir, and hastened home 
through a side street without speaking to a 
single soul. It seemed to him that he could 
never, never again face his Cousin Henry 
Bishop ; and to avoid appearing at the tea-table 
that evening, he begged a sandwich of Lovisa, 
and ate it in the pantry behind the door. 


CHAPTER XI. 


KIRKE RUNS AWAY. 

There never was a boy more afraid of ridi- 
cule than Kirke Rowe. In his dread of meet- 
ing Mr. Bishop he stole away from the house 
next morning before breakfast, and wandered 
up the street, curling a dandelion stem with an 
air of deep misery. 

“ What ’s to pay, little Rowe? Had a whack- 
ing?” cried Jimmy Maguire, as usual hanging 
about the corner. 

*‘Wish I could hide in a clay-pit, Jimmy! 
Wish I 'd never have to set eyes on anybody 
that knows me ! ” groaned Kirke, eager to tell 
his woes. ** Papa ’s ashamed of me, and so 
is mamma, and the whole town ’ll nickname 


122 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

me Little Sleepy Head. Jimmy Maguire, as 
true as you live, I Ve a great mind to run 
away ! ” 

In his desire to show Jimmy how very, very 
wretched he was, Kirke spoke with strong em- 
phasis ; but if he really had had the least inten- 
tion of doing as he said, he would hardly have 
been so startled when Jimmy replied, — 

All right, sir ! I would run away. I ’ll run 
away with you. What ’s to hinder? ” 

“ Oh, Jimmy, come to think of it, I don’t 
see how I can. Who’d go for the milk? Be- 
sides, there ’s Uncle Doctor; I ’ve hired out to 
him ! ” 

Fiddlesticks ! your uncle can find errand- 
boys enough ! ” 

“ And I ’ve promised to sell tickets for the 
fair ; and more ’n all that I don’t know where to 
run away to ! ” 

Oh, come ahead ! I ’ll tell you a neat trick ; 
we ’ll go to Boston, and get into business.” 


KIRKE RUNS AWAY. 


123 


Kirke at once pricked up his ears. What 
business was, and how they were to get into it, 
was a profound mystery ; but he liked the sound 
of Jimmy’s proposal. He was fond of barter, 
and secretly hoped he might some time distin- 
guish himself in trade. Why not begin his 
career now, and in Boston, that wonderful un- 
known city? 

‘‘ Got any chink, Kirke? ” 

“ Yes ; grandpa gave me a gold dollar 
Saturday, and I had something in my bank 
before.” 

“ I ’ve only got fifteen cents,” said Jimmy, 
counting his coppers ; “ but there ’s my new 
pistol ; I ’ll chip that in, and as soon as we strike 
Boston we ’ll sell it and go shares ! ” 

S’pose your father’d like it?” asked Kirke, 
glancing across the street at Mr. Senter un- 
barring the shutters of his grocery. Kirke 
always hated to speak to Jimmy of his father 
in jail. 


124 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Oh, pa would n’t care ; he ..gave it to me. 
I ’d rather sell it than not if I can slink out 
of marm’s way. Harm picks on me the worst 
kind.” 

“ My mamma does n’t pick on me,” said 
Kirke, suddenly wavering. “ She ’s just as 
good as ever was. I don’t^know about run- 
ning off, Jimmy. Maybe I ’d better give it 
up.” 

But as ill luck would have it, at that mo- 
ment Mr. Senter bawled out loud enough to 
wake the whole neighborhood, “ Good-morning, 
sonny! finished your nap behind the organ? 
How did you like it?” 

t 

Cut to the quick, Kirke dashed around the 
corner into the lane leading to Mr. Sally’s 
shop. 

“That’s the way folks’ll chaff you if you 
stay,” urged Jimmy, following on the run. “ If 
I was you I ’d bolt.” 

“ I will bolt. I won’t be made fun of ; I 


KIRKE RUNS AWAY. 


125 


won’t stand it ! ” gasped Kirke, flushed and 
breathless. 

By the time they reached the shoemaker’s, 
however, his rage had cooled a little, and he 
continued in a more hesitating tone, — 

I suppose mamma ’d feel awfully, Jimmy, 
if I should run off; I hate to make — ” 

Unfortunately at this point they came upon 
Mr. Sally sweeping his scrap of a doorstep, 
and he shook his broom sportively at Kirke, 
crying, — 

“Hello, my boy! Rested yet? They tell 
me you ’re the little chap that slept on duty 
yesterday.” 

“ They tell me ! ” This was the hardest blow 
that Kirke had received. 

“ The whole city ’s talking about me, Jimmy. 
They ’ll have me in the papers yet,” he groaned, 
tearing along the lane without a glance at Mr. 
Sally. “ It ’s no use, I can’t stand it I I’m 
going to clear out I ” 


126 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“ Good for you ! ” cried Jimmy, throwing up 
his hat. “ Let ’s be off on the next train.” 

“ My cousin is ticket-agent. He ’ll be at the 
depot and stop us.’^ 

“ Whew ! Then let ’s start afoot.” 

“ I will if you will.” 

The boys’ plans were soon formed ; and 
promising to meet again behind the summer- 
house in Mr. Rowe’s garden, they separated, to 
go home and pack their clothes. Kirke had 
hoped to creep up to his room unseen; but 
upon the porch he met his mother looking for 
him. 

“ If the Pratts are stirring, I wish you ’d go 
over and bring a pitcher of cream for grandpa’s 
breakfast,” said she. “ Look and see if there is 
any smoke coming out of their chimney.” 

“ What do you want any smoke for, mamma? ” 
asked Weezy, running out to hear what they 
were saying. 

At any other time Kirke would have laughed 


KIRKE RUNS AWAY. 


127 


heartily at the absurd question, but now he 
hardly heard it ; and thinking of graver matters, 
the moment he returned from the Pratts’ he shut 
himself into his room. 

“ ’Visa says for you to come to breakfast,” 
chirped Weezy, skipping after him. We ’re 
going to have queets [Weezy meant buckwheat 
cakes] with sirreup on ! ” 

“I’m not ready. Tell ’em not to wait for 
me,” replied Kirke, bolting the door. Then 
hastily opening it to give Weezy a ringing kiss, 
he as hastily bolted it again. 

Poor little thing ! I suppose she ’ll cry her 
eyes out when she finds I ’m gone,” mused he, 
whisking from the closet an old silk handker- 
chief used by Lovisa for dusting, and crowding 
into it the first garments he could lay his hands 
on. A satchel might have been more useful; 
but all the run-away boys in story books carried 
handkerchief bundles, and Kirke desired to be 
in style. 


128 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“ We ’re going to have porched eggs, too,” 
called back his little sister from the dining- 
room. 

Kirke waited till Lovisa had taken in the 
coffee, then bundle in hand he stole down the 
back stairs. Oh, how they creaked ! and oh, oh, 
how his heart thumped ! 

“ There ’s Jimmy whistling to me,” thought 
he, as he skulked like a thief past the dining- 
room door. “ ’T is n’t too late to back out, 
though, if I choose ! ” 

But when above the clatter of knives and forks 
he heard his Cousin Henry Bishop ask mock- 
ingly, “ Is our young dormouse still snoozing? ” 
Kirke did not choose to back out. He said to 
himself that he ’d sooner crawl all the way to 
Patagonia. 

“Got any grub?” asked Jimmy, munching a 
heavy biscuit behind the summer-house. 

“ No ; and I don’t feel a bit hungry, either,” 
replied Kirke, glad to mention a fact so unusual. 


KIRKE RUNS AWAY. 


129 


The fact remained true only till they reached 
the first bakery. There, seized with faintness, 
Kirke purchased a paper bag of cookies; and 
nibbling these in partnership, the young pil- 
grims set forth on their road to Boston. An 
oddly-matched firm they were, — big, red-haired 
Jimmy rough and awkward, and handsome, nut- 
brown Kirke lithe and graceful as an antelope. 

“ Better hurry for a spell,” suggested Jimmy, 
shuffling along with outstretched neck; “and 
if we meet anybody, let ’s dodge. We don’t 
want folks to guess we ’re playing hookey.” 

Gallatin was a queer little city made up of 
several small villages clustered about a larger 
one, like crocus-buds about the parent bulb. 
Kirke and Jimmy lived in the outskirts of one 
of the smallest of these villages, and they had 
not proceeded far before they were walking in 
the open country, with green fields skirting the 
road, and here and there a forest, fresh and cool 
in its early summer toilet. 


9 


130 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“ We ’re safe enough now, I reckon,” said 
Jimmy, pausing at last to draw a long breath. 

“ I don’t know; I see a buggy ahead,” mut- 
tered Kirke, anxiously. “ It looks some like — 
Granther Grievous ! it is Uncle Doctor’s ! ” 

“ Duck and hide, for all you ’re worth ! 
quick!” whispered Jimmy, springing into the 
ditch. “ Flat out like a pancake, so ! ” 

For a moment the boys were in a great 
panic; but Dr. Wyman drove straight by, ap- 
parently without observing them. As soon as 
they dared, they crawled from their muddy 
bed and tramped on, stopping now and then 
at a farm-house to inquire their way or ask 
for a drink of water. At first they got over 
the ground famously; but as the sun grew hot 
their steps began to flag, and they took long 
and frequent rests upon the cool grass by the 
roadside. 

“Where shall we get our dinner? — that’s 
what I want to know,” mumbled Kirke, as they 


KIRKE RUNS AWAY. 


131 

lay under a beech-tree devouring their last 
cookies. “ They were going to have stuffed 
veal at home, and a boiled baby pudding. 
Wish we had some ! ” 

“Don’t you fret, sir. .We’ll have a pealer 
of a dinner in Boston, — turkey, and ice-cream, 
and all that sort of thing,” returned Jimmy, who 
could hardly remember how turkey tasted. 

“If we ever get to Boston, Jimmy! Oh, 
I hate these shoes; they pinch like a boot- 
jack I ” 

“ Take ’em off, then. You don’t need ’em 
more ’n a toad needs a pocket I ” 

Acting upon this suggestion, Kirke tied the 
offending shoes in his bundle, and walked on 
with better courage ; but they presently missed 
their way, and sunset overtook them far from 
Boston. 

“ Supper ’d come in handy about this time,” 
remarked Jimmy, dryly. 

“ Let ’s ask at this next house if they won’t 


132 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

sell US some,” said Kirke, whose face was grow- 
ing longer and longer. 

Unfortunately the woman that came to the 
door was very cross, and she ordered them 
away with a frown, saying that she never gave 
anything to tramps. 

“ Tramps ! We ’re not tramps ! ” cried Kirke, 
indignantly; “ we can pay — ” 

But she locked the door in his face. 

“ Why, Jimmy Maguire, she thinks we ’re beg- 
gars, hateful thing!” raved Kirke, limping off 
as fast as his lame feet would permit. 

“We don’t look very scrumptioiiSy that’s a 
fact,” said Jimmy, coolly. “ My jacket ’s all 
rags, and yours is all mud, and such a dirty 
face as you ’ve got 1 ” 

“ If my face is any dirtier than yours is, Jimmy 
Maguire, I ’ll drown myself I ” 

“ If you drown yourself you ’ll rile the water 
awfully; I’ll tell you that. You’d be hard on 
the fishes.” 


KIRKE RUNS AWAY. 


133 


Kirke could not find an answer half severe 
enough for this, and the tired, hungry little 
fellows plodded on in silence, till, coming to 
a last-year’s haystack, they crawled under it 
and instantly fell asleep. 


CHAPTER XII. 


WISHES HE hadn’t. 

Kirke awoke next morning with a yawn that 
scared a robin from the top of the haystack. 

“Oh, ho, hum! Jimmy, I ache all over. I 
bet I’m black and blue; I’m ’most starved, 
besides.” 

“Quit hollering in my ear, will you? Bet 
you ain’t any blacker ’n’ bluer ’n I be.” 

“ My feet sting, too. You should n’t have 
teased me to run away, Jimmy Maguire. My 
father ’ll see to you for that 1 ” 

“ ‘ Cry, baby, cry 1 ’ ” sang teasing Jimmy, 
crawling from his warm nest with his hair brist- 
ling like dry pine needles. He was used to 
“ roughing it ” himself ; but in his secret heart 

li 

he was not quite sure he had done the square 


WISHES HE hadn’t. 


135 


thing by Kirke in urging him to leave his com- 
fortable home. However, he was n’t going to 
own it. 

“ If you had to walk on blisters, I guess 
you ’d make a fuss yourself,” whined Kirke, dis- 
playing his bleeding soles with sorrowful pride. 
“ I ’m going home ; so now ! ” 

Who ’s going with you ? I ain’t ! ” 

“Oh, do, Jimmy! Let’s give the thing up. 
My mamma ’s crying her eyes out, I just know 
she is.” 

“ Mine ain’t, though, you ’d better believe 
that!” retorted Jimmy, with a bitter laugh. 
He wished he could know once how it would 
seem to have anybody love him well enough 
to cry about him. 

“ I say ’t was awful shabby, the way we 
sneaked off.” 

“ A pretty time of day to talk ! ” 

“ If you won’t go home with me, Jimmy Ma- 
guire, I ’m going alone.” 


136 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

“ Cut and run this minute, little buffer ! Back 
out and leave me to whistle ! Who ’s shabby 
now, I ’d like to know ! ” 

“ I wish I had n’t gone into partnership with 
you,” groaned Kirke, conscious that whether he 
went forward or backward, he should in either 
case be a sneak. 

‘‘ All right, little dear ! Bust the firm ! ” cried 
Jimmy scornfully, hailing a passing milk-cart. 
“ I ’ll catch a ride in this to Boston, and you 
can run home to your mother ! ” 

This taunt had the desired effect to send 
Kirke flying into the cart behind Jimmy; for 
what boy could bear to be called a baby by a 
lad only four years older than himself ? 

It would take too long to tell all the events of 
that tedious day, — how the milkman set down 
the young pilgrims at the nearest station in sea- 
son for the early train to the city; how they 
wandered about Boston through a drizzling mist, 
vainly trying to get into business; how they 


WISHES HE hadn’t. 


137 


bought cakes and candies till their money was 
spent, and Jimmy was howling with the tooth- 
ache; how nobody would purchase the cher- 
ished pistol; and how when they had reached 
the brink of despair a friendly policeman pawned 
it for just money enough to pay for their pas- 
sage home. 

By that time Jimmy’s toothache had taken 
away all his courage, and he was quite willing 
to turn his face toward Gallatin. It was late in 
the evening when they arrived at the station, 
and the first person they met was Kirke’s father 
rushing from another train. 

Oh, papa, papa! ” cried Kirke, dashing 
toward him with a great sob. “ Oh, I am so 
glad to see you I ” 

Mr. Rowe seized the little penitent in his 
arms, and kissed him again and again before he 
could command his voice to speak. Was this 
really his own little son returned to him safe 
and sound? It seemed too good to be true. 


138 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Meanwhile neglected Jimmy stole off with a 
jealous pang. He thought he should like to 
have somebody fond of him like that. Yes, he 
knew he should. 

“ Oh, papa, I ’ll never run away again ; never, 
as long as I live ! ” cried Kirke, clinging to his 
father’s hand as they walked out of the depot. 

My poor, dear, naughty little son, I trust 
you never will,” answered his papa, trying to be 
stern. “ How could you do such a thing? It 
was very, very wrong ! ” 

I know it, papa, I know it ! I ’m everlasting 
sorry, truly I am ! What shall you do to punish 
me, papa?” 

*‘We will talk of that later, when you are 
rested a little. To-morrow will be time enough 
to decide about your punishment.” 

But, papa, if you ’d just as lief, I ’d rather 
have it settled and done with,” pleaded Kirke, 
as they passed the stone lions. ‘‘ I ’d lots rather 
know what it ’s going to be.” 


WISHES HE hadn’t. 


139 


“Don’t you think it should be a severe one? 
Don’t you see yourself that you ’ve been a very 
bad boy? ” 

“ Yes, papa. I don’t know what did make me 
act so. Oh, what did mamma say? ” 

1 “Your mamma and I have concluded that 
a mischievous little boy who runs away from 
home and frightens all his friends does not 
deserve — ” 

“ Oh, papa, don’t say it ! That is what I was 
afraid of. I pretty much knew you ’d say I 
could n’t have the watch. Oh, I do want the 
watch so bad ! ” 

“ Do you feel that you have merited it? ” 

“I — don’t — know, papa.” 

“Well, you shall have time to make up your 
mind, my boy. Now, you must tell where you 
and Jimmy have been, and what you have been 
doing.” 

They were entering the gate, and the next 
moment Kirke was clasped to his mother’s 


140 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

breast, sobbing out the story of his naughtiness. 
When it was ended he asked in a subdued 
tone, — 

“What made you come to the depot, papa? 
Did you think I ’d be on the train? ” 

“ Why, Kirke, papa has been looking for you 
ever since you went away, and he ’s sent the 
police after you, too,” put in Molly, after wait- 
ing in vain for a pause. “ And he ’s telegraphed 
everywhere, and Uncle Doctor has telegraphed. 
Oh, say, Kirke, did Uncle Doctor meet you on 
the Braxton road? He saw two boys hiding 
in a ditch, and he thought afterwards that it 
might have been you and Jimmy.” 

“ You made mamma have headache, you did, 
you running-away boy,” cried Weezy, kissing 
her brother’s cleanest cheek. “ And you made 
me cry about you, and you made Kisty cry 
too.” 

“ Hush, little daughter,” said Mrs. Rowe, gen- 
tly. “ Kirke is very tired. He must have his 


WISHES HE hadn’t. 


14I 

bath and his supper, and then go straight to 
bed.” 

Kirke was indeed so exhausted that he did 
not wake next morning till the sun stared in at 
the south window. Then he stared back stu- 
pidly for a while, wondering where he was, till 
Weezy’s voice in the room below recalled him 
to himself. He could not stay alone another 
minute after that, but dressed hastily and ran 
down to the library. 

Kisty Nye and his little sister were commit- 
ting to memory the texts upon their Sabbath- 
school cards. 

“ In my Father’s house are many mansions,” 
said Weezy, repeating her Scripture verse for 
about the tenth time. “ S’pose they have any 
carpets on the heaven chambers, Kisty?” 

“ Oh, yes, made out of clouds, you know.” 

I s’pect those mansion rooms are just ele- 
gant, Kirke,” cried Weezy, as her brother came 
and leaned over her chair. “ Don’t you hope 


142 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

God’ll give us front chambers? I want to see 
the golden streets ’thout going out.” 

Kirke felt a great lump rising in his throat. 
“ If He ’ll give me a little narrow chamber way 
up under the eaves it ’ll be full as good as I 
deserve,” thought he, swallowing hard ; “ I Ve 
been a horrid, mean old sneak. Of course I ’ve 
no business to have the watch, and I sha’ n’t take 
a speck of comfort till I tell papa so. I ’ll tell 
him this noon before I eat my dinner.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE RAINBOW SUPPER. 

Summer came, bringing Kirke’s birthday, but 
not his long-coveted watch. That the hours of 
that 25th of August dragged sadly cannot be 
denied, yet Kirke said no word of complaint. 
He knew he had justly forfeited the gift, and 
he was too plucky to groan, even to Jimmy. 
Jimmy on his part felt greatly to blame for 
Kirke’s not receiving the watch, and wanted 
to make up to him in some fashion for his 
disappointment. Not that he said anything 
of the sort. Oh, no, not he! that was not 
Jimmy’s way. He simply sharpened his pocket- 
knife, and came over the afternoon of Kirke’s 
birthday to help him finish the jack-straws. It 


144 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

was indeed high time these were done, for the 
fair was to be held early in September. 

With only a short vacation during the hottest 
of the season, the little Sewing Circle had met 
every week all summer, and, thanks to Mrs. 
Wyman’s skilful management, had accomplished 
a deal of work. At the close of the Saturday 
following Kirke’s birthday she was able to an- 
nounce to the members that their fancy articles 
were completed, and they might arrange for 
their sale. 

There was a general clapping of hands. 

“Shall we have a Rainbow Fair?” 

More clapping of hands. 

“ And we must have an entertainment in the 
evening, mustn’t we, auntie?” cried Molly. 

“ Oh, yes, yes, auntje, and live pictures into it ! ” 
exclaimed Weezy, present as an especial favor. 

“ Very well ; if the rest of the girls desire 
them. Those in favor of having tableaux will 
please say ‘ Ay.’ ” 


THE RAINBOW SUPPER. 


145 


** Ay, ay ! ” 

“And now shall we appoint a committee of 
older persons to assist us?” 

“ Ay, ay ! ” ‘ 

Then followed the appointing of committees. 
There was a committee to price the fancy ar- 
ticles, a second on refreshments, a third on 
amusements, and so on. Last of all, amid loud 
applause, Mrs. Wyman was voted “ General 
Manager of Everything.” After this the society 
broke up. 

The 5th of September had been chosen as the 
day for the festival, and the next two weeks 
were busy ones for the little folks and for their 
friends. The boys, until then for the most part 
lazy or indifferent, aroused at the last moment 
and worked with a will. They tramped miles 
and miles for evergreens to adorn the hall; 
they fashioned booths, and assisted the girls in 
weaving rope-trimming. On the eventful Thurs- 
day they ran on errands; brought dishes and 


10 


146 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

oil-stoves; froze ice-cream; and were at once 
so useful and so much in the way that, as Mrs. 
Wyman remarked to Mrs. Rowe, she could not 
have got along without them, and she could 
hardly get along with them. 

The most active and untiring of them all was 
her little nephew Kirke, who since his return 
from Boston had evidently been trying hard to 
be good. And for that matter, Jimmy Maguire 
was not far behind him. Jimmy was always 
ready to do things for Mrs. Wyman, because 
she treated him as if he was somebody,” and 
never seemed to remember that he had a tipsy 
father. Besides, Jimmy liked an excuse for 
staying away from home. It was a more 
wretched place than ever, now that his father 
had come out of jail. 

When the decorations were finished, the in- 
terior of the hall was a marvel of beauty. A 
great rainbow spanned the wall opposite the 
entrance, arching above seven gorgeous booths. 


THE RAINBOW SUPPER. 


147 


each draped with tarlatan of a different primary 
color. The stage stood at one end of the hall, 
and at the other end was the refreshment- 
room, in which were arranged seven tables, each 
table decked with one of the seven hues of 
the rainbow. Of course the napkins and table- 
cloths were of paper, but the effect was none 
the less pretty on this account. To find cups 
and saucers of violet, indigo, blue, green, orange, 
yellow, and red to match the seven different 
tables had not been easy ; yet there they all 
were, waiting to be purchased full of tea or 
coffee. 

On Thursday morning by ten o’clock the last 
sprig of refuse cedar had been carried away, and 
the hall doors were thrown open to the public. 
A moment later Molly came rushing into the 
violet booth all out of breath. 

Was n’t it stupid of me, Inez? I forgot my 
bureau scarf, and had to go back for it,” cried 
she, straightening her violet cap. Oh, how 


148 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

lovely this booth is ! I feel as if we were two 
angels looking out of a cloud.” 

“ Don’t dance about so ; you ’ll knock over 
the clothes-horse ! ” returned prosaic Inez, never 
carried away by her imagination like Molly. 
She thought the delicate canopy very pretty, 
but never forgot that its cloud effect was pro- 
duced by real cloth stretched upon a real frame- 
work of wood. 

“ See how fast the people are flocking in ! ” 
cried Molly, spreading out the fringe of a tidy 
to show it to better advantage. ** Oh, don’t you 
hope, Inez, we shall sell more things at our 
booth than they do at the others ? ” 

Plainly Molly felt that the whole care of the 
sales rested upon herself and Inez. To be 
sure. Miss Nye sat behind them in the shade of 
the curtain ready to make change, but they did 
not count her. 

“ Those ladies are coming to our table ; yes, 
Molly, they certainly are,” exclaimed Inez, 


THE RAINBOW SUPPER. 


149 


nervously smoothing her sash; and from that 
moment trade began in earnest. It was a bust- 
ling, fatiguing, happy day. As the crowd in- 
creased, Mrs. Wyman flitted from booth to 
booth to encourage the young saleswomen. 
She had taken great pains to interest people in 
the children’s project ; but even she was surprised 
at the numbers that pressed in to see what the 
young folks had accomplished. Many visitors 
bought fancy articles at the booths ; many took 
tea at the attractive tables, and remained at the 
hall till the evening entertainment. 

This began promptly at eight o’clock. Mr. 
Henry Bishop had the management of the 
stage performances, and to Kirke Rowe and 
Jimmy Maguire had been given the important 
task of raising and lowering the drop-curtain. 
The boys were very proud of their trust, and 
considered this curtain, with its seven bright 
stripes, a remarkably fine imitation of a rain- 
bow. Mr. Bishop advanced to the side of the 


150 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

Stage, and everybody listened as he announced 
the first piece upon the programme. It was 
“ A Song by the Sunflowers.” Kirke and Jimmy, 
concealed at opposite ends of the stage, twitched 
the curtain, and immediately it rose upon eight 
girlish faces, each peeping from the centre of a 
golden sunflower. If the flowers were merely 
yellow tissue paper encircling holes in a screen 
which concealed the girls themselves, they were 
pretty flowers for all that, and the faces they 
framed were pretty too. After each flower 
had sung a solo, and the eight had joined in 
the chorus, the curtain fell amid a round of 
applause. 

“ Next comes a song by Miss Louise Rowe,” 
read Mr. Bishop from the paper in his hand. 

That’s Weezy, Jimmy. Mamma let her 
sing to-night just to please me,” whispered 
Kirke eagerly, his eyes sparkling even in the 
shadow. 

Yes, it was true. By Kirke’s oft-repeated re- 


THE RAINBOW SUPPER. 


15 I 

quest his little sister was actually to appear upon 
the stage, and at last the boys could all see for 
themselves what a pretty, clever little humming- 
bird of a girl she was. In his pleased excitement 
Kirke almost danced as he drew up the curtain. 

Mrs. Wyman sat at one side of the stage with 
her guitar, and little Miss Weezy came floating 
toward her in a cloud of gauze, like a shred 
from a rainbow. 

“ Creation ! she ’s a stunner ! ” muttered Jimmy 
all to himself, as she made a graceful courtesy. 

Kirke, half-smothered in folds of cambric, 
saw Jimmy’s admiring glance, and gave a nod 
and a wink. 

After a moment’s pause Mrs. Wyman softly 
touched the strings of her guitar, and Weezy 
began her little ditty, “ Once there was a Lady.” 
She sang the first line correctly ; but before the 
end of the second, people, lights, and gay dra- 
peries all danced up and down. For once in 
her life the little maiden was thoroughly be- 


152 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

wildered, and after standing stock still an in- 
stant she turned her back upon the audience 
and ran away to bury her face in her auntie’s 
lap. If poor Kirke had but known it, this was 
to many the most attractive performance of the 
evening; but he was only conscious that his 
charming little sister had made a failure, and 
he dragged down the curtain, blushing to the 
ends of his fingers. 

“ I lost the tune, auntie,” sobbed Weezy, be- 
hind the screen, and course I had to stop.” 

** Oh, come ahead, Duxie ! Try it over 
again,” cried Kirke, rushing across to her. 
“ Show ’em how nicely you can act ! ” 

‘‘ No, no,” she wailed, casting about for an 
excuse for her shyness. I can’t, ’cause — 
’cause my tooth ’s gone. S’pose I can sing to 
such a many people when my tooth ’s gone? ”• 
Don’t urge her, Kirke,” said her aunt, seeing 
that she yet trembled with fright. “ We will 
finish our programme without her.” 


THE RAINBOW SUPPER. 1 53 

At first Weezy was greatly comforted by this 
arrangement; but when the entertainment was 
over, and she saw her Aunt Clara and Colonel 
Flint counting plates of money at the blue 
booth, she looked troubled. 

“ Will we have to give all the money back 
'cause I did n’t sing? ” asked she, leaning upon 
her auntie’s shoulder with an anxious face. 

** Give the money back? No, indeed, sweet- 
heart ! ” 

And auntie says we ’ve made ever so much 
more than she expected we would,” said Molly, 
waltzing Kirke around the booth. ‘‘We have 
enough to buy a lovely little library.” 

“ And to fit up the Boys’ Reading-Room into 
the bargain,” added Kirke, joyously. 

“ So that Jimmy won’t be naughty any more,” 
put in Weezy. 

“ To be sure, my dear,” said Colonel Flint, 
with one of his rare wrinkled smiles, as he 
poured the counted money into a bag. “ And 


154 LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER. 

we ’ll try to have the library in working order 
by Christmas.” 

“ It ’ll be our Christmas gift to the boys,” 
said Molly, proudly. “ I should think they ’d 
be happy if they did n’t get another thing.” 

“ But I shall want my watch all the same,” 
added Kirke, yawning. “ Papa says I shall 
have it Christmas if I ’m good ; and I will be 
good if I have to fight for it ! ” 


THE END. 


BY SOPHIE MAY’S SISTEK, 



LITTLE MISS WEEZY. 

By PENN SHIRLEY. 

CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. 7B cts. 

Little Miss Weezy must have been “brought up” with the whole 
tribe of “ Little Prudy ” folks, for though her story is decidedly 
original, she has cute ways, smart sayings, and an infinite variety of 
funny adventures equal to the best for which Sophie May is respon- 
sible. 


( 20 ) 


YOUN& FOLKS’ TKOPHIES OF TRAVEL. 



OUR BOYS IN CHINA. 

The thrilling story of Two Young Americans, Scott and Paul 
Clayton, wrecked m the China Sea on their return from India, 
with their strange adventures in China. By Harry W. 
French, author of “Our Boys in India.” 150 illustrations. 

Royal 4to. Illuminated covers, $1.75. Cloth, back and gold, 
$2 50. 

“Our Boys in China” depicts the adventures of two young 
Americans wrecked in the China Sea on their return from India, 
with their romantic wanderings through the Chinese Empire. After 
successfully starting the young heroes of his previous book, “ Our 
boys in India,” on their homeward trip, the popular and remark- 
able story-teller has them wrecked in the China Sea, saved and 
transported across China, giving him an opportunity to spread for 
young fo'ks an appetizing feast of good things in the land of 
Confucius. — Quincy PVhig. 


( 28 ) 


YOUNG FOLKS’ TEOPHIES OF TEAVEL. 



YOUNG AMERICANS IN JAPAN. 

Or, The Adventures of the Jewett Family and their 
Friend Otto Nambo. 

By EDWARD GREiJY. 

With one hundred and seventy full-page and letter-press illustra- 
tions. Royal octavo, inches. Handsomely illuminated 

cover, ^1.75. Cloth, black and gold, $2.50. A new edition 
of which is now ready. 

Mr. Edward Gre^y was a member of the famous expedition 
which in 1854 caused “the Land of the Rising Sun “ to be opened 
to Eastern civilization. He afterwards returned to Japan, “living 
among its estimable people, studied their language and literature, 
and what they term, ‘ learned their hearts.’ ’’ He is thus qualified 
to be a trustworthy guide to this the youngest and oldest of nations. 
His pen-pictures of Japanese scenery and customs are graphic, and 
by the introduction of spicy conversation are made dramatic. Mar- 
kets and bazaars, shake shops and Buddhist temples, jin-riki-shas 
and jugglers are ail brought before the eye. 

( 29 ) 


YOUNG FOLKS’ TROPHIES OF TRAVEL. 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 


The Wanderingg of Two Young Americans in Hindu- 
stan, with their exciting adventures, on the Sacred 
Rivers and Wild Mountains. 

By HARRY W. FRENCH, 

Author of ^'OUR BOYS IN CHINAN 

With 145 illustrations. Royal octavo, 7 x 9)^ inches. Bound in 
emblematical covers of Oriental design, $1.75. Cloth, black 
and gold, ^2.50. 

The great Indian Empire is the champion land for romance and 
adventure. In this story a little Yankee lad is kidnapped from his 
home. Hy the aid of a detective, an older brother, a lad of six- 
teen years, traces him to India. The adventures of the two, one 
as a captive and the other as a rescuer, in different parts of the em- 
pire, are thrilling, dealing as they do with the natives, the snake 
charmers and jugglers, royal personages and mountaineers, tiger 
hunts, elephant and rhinoceros fights. The descriptions of scenery, 
customs and wonders are graphic and instructive. Many of the 
illustrations are from special photographs taken for the author 
while in India. ( 27 ) 


YOUNG FOLKS’ TROPHIES OF TRAVEL. 


YOUNG AMERICANS IN THE WONDERFUL CITY OF TOKYO. 



Further Adventures of the Jewett Family and their 
Friend Otto Nambo. 

By EDWARD GREfiY, 

Author of “Young Americans in Japan,” “The Golden Lotus,” 
etc. With one hundred and sixty-nine illustrations. Royal 
octavo, 7 X 95 inches, with cover in gold and colors, designed by 
the author, 1^1.75. Cloth, black and gold, $2. so- Royal octavo, 
7 X inches. 

In the great city of the great Empire of Japan, which the Japanese 
themselves call wonderful, the Young Americans find new cause for 
wonder at the strange customs and curious sights. Under the guid- 
ance of “ Oto Nambo,” their stanch friend, they assist at a fire, 
dine at Tokyo restaurants, are entertained by amateur performers, 
visit all the points of interest, and meet with many adventures; but 
the most interesting part of the book to American boys will be the 
visits to and descriptions of the different trades, many of which are 
illustrated, and all of which are described, from the “ seller of folding 
fans ” to the maker of “ broiled bean curd.” 

( 30 ) 


rOUNQ FOLKS’ TROPHIES OF TRAVEL. 



YODNG AIERICANS AMONG THE BEAR WORSHIPPERS 

Of Japan, Yezo and the Island of Karafuto. By Edward 
Greey. Price, boards, 5^1.75 ; Cloth, $2.50. 

Yezo formerly belonged to Japan, but was ceded to Russia m 
1875. The people bear the same relationship to the Japanese as 
the Indians do to America. They are as ” hairy as bears, never 
feel the cold, and live to be very aged.” The various members 
of the Jewett family and their friend, Oto Nambo, contrive to see 
and tell a great deal of the' manners, customs, sports, traditions, 
and religion of this unknown and singular people. The book is 
7 X inches; handsome cover; contains 180 illustrations by na- 
tive Japanese artists, and 304 pages. — H erald of Truth. 

iZW 


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